


Two Halves of a Whole

by Cait_The_Bookworm



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood and Injury, Childhood Trauma, Custom Summons (Komainu), F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (By the Village), Kakashi looks after the two brothers, Overworking, Psychological Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Uzumaki Naruto Has a Older Brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cait_The_Bookworm/pseuds/Cait_The_Bookworm
Summary: Six years prior to Naruto's birth, Uzumaki Kushina and Namikaze Minato had another child, who was called Namikaze Mitsuo. He was looking forward to being just like his father, and to being a great big brother.On the day of October 10th, he got his wish to be an older brother but lost his parents at the same time. Saddled with the responsibilities of both being a parent to his younger brother, and that of being the Jinchūriki of the Yin half of the Nine-Tailed Fox that murdered his parents, he struggles to be everything Naruto needs him to be.Added with being one of the youngest to graduate the Academy, becoming a Chūnin at the age of ten with disapproving glares of the village that hated him so much,  it's a lot of responsibility for the eldest son of the Yondaime. But if there is one thing that Mitsuo isn't afraid of, it's responsibility. He loves his brother like he loves his parents, and he'd do anything for him: even if it meant staying in a village he hated.
Relationships: Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69





	1. The Demon Fox

**Author's Note:**

> “All my life, people never saw me. They saw my father, they saw the Kyūbi. They saw one half of the demon fox that destroyed the village. But they never saw me- Uzumaki Mitsuo. They forgot the boy they knew before the attack- and instead focused on the monster in front of them. Namikaze Mitsuo, to the village, died during the attack, a forgotten boy who never got to live. At least before that, I had a chance at normalcy- that was the one thing I could never give Naruto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “All my life, people never saw me. They saw my father, they saw the Kyūbi. They saw one half of the demon fox that destroyed the village. But they never saw me- Uzumaki Mitsuo. They forgot the boy they knew before the attack- and instead focused on the monster in front of them. Namikaze Mitsuo, to the village, died during the attack, a forgotten boy who never got to live. At least before that, I had a chance at normalcy- that was the one thing I could never give Naruto.”

It was a seemingly normal night on October 10th, for the Village Hidden In The Leaves, Konohagakure. The night was dusky, the moon vibrant and bright, and the village was a quiet lull. Most people around that time, shinobi and children alike, were asleep, idly dreaming about the day following. Whether it be because they were training, had a mission, or some other circumstance, it was largely peaceful. Peaceful, save for one family. The Namikaze-Uzumaki family.

October 10th was when a woman with hair like fire gave birth to her second son, one christened Naruto. For the Fourth Hokage, leader of the village, with the nickname the Yellow Flash, he was proud as he sat, holding his wife's hand, the burning seal on her stomach almost thrumming with power. This woman, Kushina, was no normal woman. She was known as a Jinchūriki, a human container for an entity that was not human.

She held the powerful tailed beast known as the Kyūbi inside her. The Kyūbi was the most powerful of the tailed beasts, taking on the aspect of a nine-tailed fox, holding immense power and hatred for those of the world. Only a human spirit was capable of controlling the fox, or so it was believed. It possessed an immense amount of chakra, a construct that fuelled many exploits that humans could do. These actions were called jutsu.

Chakra flows through each human, not only allowing them to perform extraordinary abilities but also fuels their life. As an Uzumaki, Kushina already possessed large reserves of chakra, allowing her to continue on in battles for longer than her peers. The Kyūbi was kept within her by a powerful seal, diminishing the demon's power. But during childbirth, the seal would become weakened, allowing the demon to try and escape its human host.

This was why, instead of giving birth in the private seclusion of her own home, they were in a secret area, their first son, Mitsuo, sitting by his mother's side, watching, and not quite understanding all the drama. All in all, the child was a mirror of his father, the crystal blue eyes copying his father's, peering innocently at Kushina. His hair was electric yellow, sticking up in different directions, albeit flatter than his father's. Two "whiskers" were on his cheeks, and with his skinny appearance and rounded face, he looked like a miniature Minato.

They had done the same routine six years ago when Mitsuo had been born, oddly quiet for a newborn baby. Naruto, to contrast, was loud and bawling, perhaps sensing the stress in the air. Everything had gone well that year, and there had been no need for the ANBU who had been stationed outside in case anything went wrong. This time though… well, it was going to go wrong from the start. Mitsuo held the baby Naruto in his arms, small hands barely cupping the boy.

He smiled at him, protectively holding the boy close to his chest. Minato was crouched down by his wife, staring wide-eyed at his wife, who was groaning in pain. Naruto was so similar to Mitsuo. The same blue eyes, short yellow hair, three whiskers adorning each cheek. Face small and round, he was bawling his eyes out. Just like his father, who was currently wiping his eyes with the back of his navy coloured shirt.

The midwives were huddling around Kushina who was sprawled out in the bed-like place for her, as Minato moved his eyesight from his wife to his son, which Mitsuo offered him. He shook his head, placing his hands over Kushina's seal, ready to strengthen it.

"My beautiful baby boys."

Minato commented, as his hands began to glow blue. There was almost a distort in time as an unknown man appeared in front of Mitsuo, the limp bodies of the midwives falling to the ground limply, despite Minato's shouts. Despite Mitsuo clawing onto Naruto's form, the man slammed Mitsuo's chest with a blue palm, sending him flying out of the chair, and slamming back into the wall, wheezing.

"Mitsuo!"

Minato shouted again, Mitsuo seeing the flash of the ominous mask in his mind, breathing heavily as his arm was laid over his lap limply, his back pushed up against the wall and bleeding. Pain radiated through his small form, but not as much as the pain of this figure, who radiated _killing intent_ towards the whole family. Despite that, there seemed some kind of hesitancy, lingering deep within.

"Fourth Hokage. Step away from the Jinchūriki, or this child will die within its first minutes in life."

As Naruto continued to bawl, Minato narrowed his eyes at the figure, looking between him, his son, and his eldest, who was slowly crawling to a stand by his mother's side, her hand weakly reaching out to his. Minato obediently moved away, his hand no longer reaching on top of the seal, and no longer glowing blue. He seemed to be in deep thought, almost calculating his enemies next move, and how to get to his son without further damage.

He was fast, the fastest alive in fact, but even Minato was unwilling to test that with a man who had broken through both the ANBU and the barrier. A kunai was in the masked figure's hand, held up to the baby Naruto's throat, not yet close enough to draw blood. As Mitsuo trembled, clinging to his mother's hand desperately, the figure threw the baby Naruto in the air, the orange blanket beginning to uncurl from around his frail body.

There was the faintest ripple in the air, as the man prepared to teleport, but Minato beat him there, catching his youngest and landing back on the ground, down to one knee in a protective crouch.

"Minato!"

Kushina cried out, causing Minato to look at his son. Underneath the blanket, there were explosive tags, hissing and spitting, ready to explode at minutes notice. Shedding his calm demeanour for the briefest moment, he disappeared in a flash of yellow, appearing in an evacuated house, tossing away the orange blanket his son was wrapped in. The heat of the explosion burnt at his back as he suddenly twisted in mid-air, hitting the dirt harshly, baby Naruto curled within him, sheltered.

He exhaled in relief, allowing himself the briefest of moments, before teleporting back into a safe house, a cot in the corner. Minato quickly but caringly deposited little Naruto, tucking the blanket in, making sure he was tightly secure. Manifesting his chakra, he flashed back to the cave, seeing Mitsuo, in shock, huddling back in the corner.

Minato approached him, crouching down and picking up the boy in a way that he hadn't since he was young, and flashed back to the safehouse, hushing Mitsuo and trying to soothe him. Tremors wracked his form and he sobbed hysterically, tears flooding down his face, his breathing hitched ever so slightly.

"I tried to stop him, Daddy. I really did!"

He got out between hiccups, his throat looking sore. Sweeping his fringe out of his face, and looking at his wounds, which had clotted slightly, Minato soothed his child with a few words, despite the terror he felt at Kushina's kidnapping. With the seal so weak… he had no idea what the man was planning.

"It's okay, _Supāku_. I'm going to go rescue your Mom now… look after Naruto, will you? Here-"

He gave him his spare kunai, the engravings buried deep within the handle. Popping the handle- something only certain kunai of his was able to do- he stored a letter and a scroll in there, in case something went desperately wrong. There was a feeling of intense foreboding, and he had the utmost dread that he wasn't coming out of this alive.

He handed it to him, handle first, and he took it with shaky hands, holding it with both hands, his handhold loose but firm.

"I'll protect him, Daddy."

He'd never seen such a look of seriousness on his eldest, but Minato knew he would hold the promise to his heart, and wouldn't let anyone near him. Of course, there wasn't much Mitsuo could do if a trained shinobi went after him- but it made Minato a little more comfortable. Minato nodded, swallowing, moving away from his son with a heartbreaking look in his eyes.

He didn't hear his words, the whispers of an "I love you." flickering on his lips as he focused on Kushina's mark, the one he'd placed on her when he'd first mastered the Hiraishin. Her chakra was weak, and when he flickered into existence, saving her from narrowly being skewered by the Kyūbi, her body was limp, weak, pale and cold.

A hole in her stomach where the seal had been, carelessly torn out. Her chakra was flickering wildly, almost burning itself out, and Minato's heart was in his throat, knowing that there wasn't much he could do to stabilise her, and feeling intense hatred towards the Masked Man.

"You really are as quick as a flash."

The man remarked from his place in front of Minato. He was a loving man, and it was rare he had cause to hate someone. But he could feel no other emotion for this man, who had nearly _blown up his new infant son,_ _slammed_ his eldest into the wall, had torn the Kyūbi from Kushina with no care or attention, and set the damn thing on _his_ village.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palm, a flinty glare in his eyes, chakra flaring to life in him, itching to be launched at the man.

"Minato."

Kushina whispered, her voice hoarse and weak. Here was his strong wife, a capable kunoichi in her own right, reduced to relying on him to stay conscious, rapidly losing consciousness with every thrum of her pulse. _I wish I knew some medical jutsu!_ He growled at himself, despite knowing that no medical jutsu could fully heal a Jinchūriki who had their tailed beast removed from them this harshly. He flashed away to the safehouse where Mitsuo and Naruto were, the boy launching back up the minute Minato arrived.

"He's controlling the Kyūbi- it's heading to the village."

He set her down next to Naruto, allowing her to maternally curl into her son, as well as Mitsuo, who reached out to hold her hand. He hushed her, placing a kiss on her head. Perhaps naively, he hoped that everything would be fine if he could seal the fox back into her. It was a naive thought that the Yondaime wasn't thinking about seriously.

 _Minato_ was hoping that his wife and children would be okay, the _Yondaime_ was thinking about the village and her inhabitants. For the minute, the Yondaime could be safely ignored, because it was Minato who needed to be around for the precious few seconds he could waste.

"Don't you worry about that. Stay here with Naruto and Mitsuo."

His fists shaking with anger, his eyes flinted and angered, he pulled out his robes, flaring to life with his anger. The flames that licked the bottom of his robes roared up, almost in response to his anger, and he tightened his hitai-ate, the emblem of the Hidden Leaf shining proudly on it, a brave declaration and symbolism of a promise.

"Thank you… Minato. And good luck…"

"I'll be back in a moment."

When Minato landed on the hill, he saw the Kyūbi, a large purple ball in his mouth, towering well over the trees and buildings. Behind it, its tails flickered and lashed out, flattening the forest as though it was a mere obstacle, the ground scorching from beneath it.

Its teeth were at least the size of Minato himself, and with its jaw wide opened, it could easily swallow them whole. Its large and red eyes glared at nothing in particular with malice, and its attacks were uncoordinated and sloppy. But for an enemy this size, it didn't matter, because it could so easily sweep them all, and demolish everyone.

"That's not good…"

He muttered, quickly making the hand gestures to hopefully subdue the fox, even for now. His chakra was slowly diminishing, from the constant use of techniques, and soon he was going to hit rock bottom. With Jiraiya away from the village, he was the only one who could reseal the Kyūbi- it couldn't be allowed to roam free and destroy the village he loved so much, worked so hard for.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

He teleported to the top of Gamabunta, who easily squashed the demon fox beneath him. Crossing his arms, he gave the orders to keep the fox pinned for as long as he could, ignoring the exclamations of "It's the Fourth Hokage.". Even with its maw shut closed, it continued to charge the purple ball which would easily wipe out the village. No barrier could withstand it, and it would completely demolish anything in its path. It needed to be sealed, and _soon._

Images of Kushina flooded his mind, weak and frail, barely even able to hold onto Naruto. If the fox was sealed into her as she was now, it would easily break through the seal. If they waited for her to recover, the fox could come free. There was no safe way to keep it contained, and Minato's heart sunk to the bottom of his chest. He knew what had to be done… but he fought against it with every fibre of his being. He couldn't submit his sons to that… he couldn't.

They were so _young_ , Naruto still only just born. Focusing his chakra, he teleported, grabbing Kushina over his shoulder, who in turn held Naruto, who's chubby little mitts were in Mitsuo's hand. They didn't have time to think about it, as while they were moving, he redirected the attack into the harmless open, almost collapsing once they landed, dropping to one knee.

Mitsuo clung to his arm as Minato fought collapse, he couldn't falter in his actions, not now. Thick golden chains emerged from the ground around Kushina, wrapping around the fox and pinning it down. Minato looked at his wife sharply, who smiled weakly, placing her hand on his cheek.

"Minato. I'm going to take the fox with me… that way the fox will die with me, and Mitsuo and Naruto will have someone. Konoha needs their Yondaime. The boys need their father."

His eyes softened, curling downwards, frowning sadly at his wife. He held her closely, a large thud demonstrating the fall of the Kyūbi. He clenched his fists, nails digging into the palm of his hand, bleeding onto the floor. He forced himself to straighten up, placing his hands together, his chakra flaring in response, and the last of his chakra flooding up to meet his commands.

"I've become sure of two things today. One… the Masked Man will bring ruin to the world. And two… our sons will be the ones to stop him. They'll pave the way… as Jinchūriki. I'm sure of it."

He gestured for Mitsuo to come over to him, and he did, holding little Naruto in his arms, looking way too grown-up for his age. He swallowed roughly, eyes tilting downwards, shame and regret filling him at what he was about to do. It was a last resort… one he didn't want to have to do to anyone, let alone his son. Mitsuo clutched his hands, pressing them together as he shook, almost in time with his sons.

"I love you two. Never forget that Mitsuo. I'm doing this as a last resort."

He closed his eyes, quickly making rapid gestures as he pulled away from Mitsuo, the sky breaking apart around them. He made the series of hand gestures that was going to spell his death: but it would save the village, and his sons. With Kushina bowed on the ground, hands grasping together into the dirt as her chains weighed down, Minato summoned his last seal- or rather, the last seal that would be performed on himself.

"Reaper Death Seal!"

As he stood, his Hokage jacket flaring behind him, a large figure, demonic in appearance, formed out of the smoke, a sharp dagger in his hands. Tauntingly, menacingly, he licked the blade, sending shivers down Minato's spine, bile forming in his throat. He turned to Kushina, holding the seal, not quite completing it just yet. His eyes were blazing with emotion, grief and loss as Mitsuo looked, terrified at the large demon, literally holding his father's life in his hands.

"Kushina. I'm going to mingle your chakra in the seal, so you can help them control the Nine Tails as a Jinchūriki… whenever that time occurs."

"I don't want them to deal with that burden! Why use the Reaper Death Seal?! If it's just so I can meet them when they're grown up… I'd rather they had you! I don't understand why it has to be this way! Why do you have to sacrifice yourself, for me?!"

"Daddy!"

She argued back, voice strained but fiery as ever, her face blatantly telling him he was being stupid, and sacrificial. Mitsuo was clinging to Naruto in front of him, staring at him with those tears flooding down his face again. _I'm sorry, Mitsuo. You're going to have a lot of weight on you… you and Naruto both._ Naruto cried out again, for his mother, and his father.

"To forsake one's nation, and one's village is exactly the same as forsaking one's child. A harsh life awaits those without a land to call their home. Finally, even if I were to live, I could never be a substitute for you."

He dipped his head, raising his arms to give the reaper his final order, to finally finish this. He cupped Mitsuo's hand in his palm, transferring some of his chakra to the boy, in a gesture from father to son. It's what little he could spare, and there were tense marks around his eyes, his hands covered in his mother's blood, and his own.

"But finally… there's something only you can tell the boys. Something I can't. I'll die protecting my sons."

He stood in front of the boys, shielding them with his body, arms spread out. His blue eyes were hardened with determination, and he let the seal do its job. It tore through his stomach, and his heart sunk as Mitsuo looked on with terror, wailing like he'd never seen his son wail before. Wiping a drip of blood on his lip, the reaper sped towards the restrained Kyūbi, piercing through it just like it had pierced through his stomach.

Minato didn't feel much of anything, odd, considering there was a gaping hole in his stomach, but he did feel a flood of chakra as the Kyūbi screeched its inhuman screech. _That's one half._ Minato thought to himself, refusing to let the demon take him just yet. As the chains began to fray, he stumbled over to Mitsuo, placing his hands on his stomach. He looked at him with trusting blue eyes, swallowing the guilt that he felt upon doing this to his son.

"Eight Sign Seal."

He pushed the part of the Kyūbi which had temporarily been sealed in him into his son, a swirl appearing on his stomach. Closing his eyes, Mitsuo's eyes opened wide, flaring an orange tint before he pushed away, squirming ever so slightly in terror. Minato cupped his head tenderly, not knowing what to say to his six-year-old son… there was nothing he could do to be forgiven for this.

"I trust you with it Mitsuo. Between you and Naruto… there's nobody else that I would trust."

Mitsuo swallowed as the Nine-Tails broke free of the chains, screaming at the air. The Kyūbi raised its claw, nudging at the back of Minato's mind, and he stood his ground, unable to teleport the attack away. With a gasp, the claw pierced through his chest, and Minato was almost numb. There was no pain in his chest, no nothing. No burn of his chakra being empty, no exhaustion.

No pain from the giant claw in his chest. What did hurt was Kushina in the same condition, standing in front of Naruto, who Mitsuo had left sitting on the ground in his haste to see his father. Blood pooled around him, around his hands, and Mitsuo looked at him in shock, between him and the protruding claw, face pale and sickly.

"Daddy!"

He cried out, before looking to the left as Naruto cried out in sync with his brother, and Mitsuo looked paler than ever. He went quiet, even quieter than usual, and the only thing that showed his emotion was the tears on his face. Naruto had the blessing of not remembering any of this… but Mitsuo… this was the kind of thing that would scar deep.

Minato, with a gasp, stepped off of the claw, bleeding from his chest, the life fading from him with every step. He got over to Kushina, and Naruto, and fell to the ground, no longer able to lift himself up. Mitsuo draped his father's arm around his shoulder, half-dragging, half-pulling him over to Naruto, as Kushina gasped, a painful, raspy sound. He placed his hands on Naruto's stomach, using the last of his chakra to form the seal on Naruto's stomach.

"Eight Sign Seal."

With the completion of the seal, the Kyūbi disappeared, and with it, the claws that had impaled both the parents. As he hobbled over to Kushina, holding her in his weakening arms, he gestured for Mitsuo to bring Naruto over. Mitsuo, ever observant, picked up his brother with ease, carrying him over to Minato, who bowed his head, forcing himself to look up, his wife staring weakly at their children.

"If you've… got anything to say to them… best do it now…"

Kushina nodded, blood still dribbling down the side of her mouth, her chains vanishing into thin air. With one hand in Minato's, the other holding Mitsuo, who was sniffling, she took a deep breath, Minato using the last of his strength to keep the two of them standing up.

"Eat your vegetables.. boys. I hope you didn't… get any of my speech patterns. Look after one another… don't fight too much. Don't forget… to make friends as well… Study hard and learn your Ninjutsu… respect your teachers… be careful… There's going to be… painful times and hardships ahead… I have so much more to say… I wish we could be here… Minato… I'm sorry I used up your time…"

They were both crying by now, and Minato had a soft gratuitous smile, still holding on to Kushina tightly. He shook his head despite the amount of pain it caused him, breathing faintly, nuzzling Kushina closely. _I love you and the boys so much. They're going to do great things when_ _they're_ _older… I only wish we would be around to see it._

"As talkative as ever… you said everything I could want to say and more…"

Minato placed one last kiss on Mitsuo's head, as Kushina did the same for Naruto. He placed his hands together for the last time, summoning the only frog he could with his chakra. He passed him the key to the seals, as he disappeared with the last of Minato's chakra. With his knees buckling, the dirt coming upon him, Namikaze Minato breathed his last, the dying words on his lips being:

"We love you two."

Soon after, Uzumaki Kushina fell next to her husband, holding one another's arms and as close as ever in death. The legacy of the Fourth Hokage's sacrifice and Kushina's tailed beast lied in front of them, their son hugging each of his parents' body's in turn, bawling, _pleading,_ for his parents to wake up. His small arms wrapped around their waists, lifeless and bloody, his brother crying for a familial touch that would never come.

"Mommy? Daddy? Wake up…"

He shook them, burying his head in the Hokage's robes, tugging at them, as if that could bring them back. His tears fell on the clothes, extinguishing the flare they had once had. No longer, would Namikaze Minato pick his son up, teleporting him all over the village just to hear his giggle. No longer, would Uzumaki Kushina tease her son, by dragging him around the village, showing him off to all who would listen. At least they had the time to love their eldest son… but Naruto would never experience a mother's touch, a father's joy.

" _Please! Wake up!"_


	2. Walking Amongst the Leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “How hard is it to be seen as me? I was as much a victim of the Kyūbi as anyone else. I lost my family apart from my brother. I raised my brother from six years old because nobody else would. I lost my childhood trying to give Naruto a decent one. Everybody looked past the fact that we were newly orphaned, and focused on their own losses. And while I can’t begrudge them that, I wish they’d looked past the fear.”

Uzumaki Mitsuo was walking through Konoha, his clothes slightly too big for his thin frame. His little brother was clinging to his hand, jumping along, ignoring the stares of the village that he called home. Naruto's plain orange t-shirt and blue jeans fitted much more nicely on him then Mitsuo's clothes did, and he looked much more rounded and well-fed.

His hair was shaggy unkempt, spiking off in all directions, much like Naruto did. As usual, Naruto was babbling happily to his brother, as Mitsuo looked around, the bags of groceries in his spare hand, firmly within his grip. Sometimes, Mitsuo envied his younger brother's naivety. He was too young to notice the glares of hate, too young to realise why the village hated them so.

It was hard to restrict Naruto's freedom, but Mitsuo had a map in his head of areas that were safe, not-so-safe, and suicidal. Safe areas were defined as areas where they could walk, run around, and be free. Where Naruto could play, without rocks being thrown at him. Where they could eat, without being set upon. Where they could walk, without being jeered at or attacked.

Not-so-safe areas were defined as areas that were okay if you didn't linger. If they made their way through quickly and without hesitancy. Where they would jeer, and poke, but rarely attack. The suicidal areas… well, anything could happen. Mitsuo always kept his father's kunai on him and could wield it a little bit, but he knew that he would realistically hold no chance against anyone who intended to cause them serious harm.

It hadn't happened yet, and besides a few punches or stones- on one particularly nasty occasion, shuriken, which had taken forever to get out of his arm and stitch up-nothing serious had happened. But it could easily change for the worse. The villagers… well, they didn't see them as children. Eight and two they may be, but they didn't see it like that. They saw the demon who killed the Yondaime and his wife. The demon who destroyed the village, killed hundreds of people, and demolished people's homes.

They may each carry half of the Nine-Tailed Fox- something he had not told Naruto yet, he was too young to understand- but they were _not_ him. They just wanted to live their lives. How the village thought it was okay for an eight-year-old to care for a two-year-old, he had no idea, but they likely slipped through the cracks. That, or they knew perfectly well and just didn't care.

Naruto pulled on his brother's sleeve, and he looked down at him, with a curious gaze. He was as happy go lucky as ever, and Mitsuo found himself wanting to keep that about him. His grin was pearly white, his bright eyes shining as vividly as the sky. And unlike the sky of Konoha, Naruto's eyes were unclouded, with nothing obscuring them.

He had no worries, no traumas, no burdens. And while some of that was set to change, Mitsuo was glad that his brother didn't have the memory of their parents, bleeding in a pool of blood, whispering endearments with their last breaths. That he didn't have to remember the terror of that night. Naruto could go to sleep in peace, unburdened and light, and that was what kept Mitsuo going.

"Ramen tonight?"

Ramen was a very special treat, as Naruto had been forced to learn. With money so low, they could only afford it if Mitsuo planned out the month's finances well in advance. Which he tended to do anyway, usually when Naruto was down for a nap. With nobody to rely on but himself, he was determined to do his best by Naruto, even if that meant a few sleepless nights, a few sacrifices here and there.

His only saving grace was that the village seemed to cover the bills for their shared apartment, which was one less bill they had to pay. As they appeared at the door to their apartment, he picked out the keys, spinning them around his finger, before catching the key, and thrusting it into the door. _Things will be better once I finish the Academy. I'll earn more money, and I can treat Naruto more to the things he deserves. I can spruce up our apartment a little bit._

He knew that he'd be sacrificing some of his time with Naruto… but though it would be hard, it was worth it to keep him happy. Dropping down his bags, Mitsuo reached into his purse, looking at the coins he had. Not much- enough for ramen, but it would likely come back to bite him later. Still, seeing Naruto's innocent smile, hopeful and almost begging, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Of course we can, Naruto."

Fewer meals for him were nothing compared to the worth of the smile on Naruto's face as he gave the affirmative. He'd do whatever he could to keep that smile on his face, even if it meant sacrifices. They meant nothing in the grand scheme of things- nothing could ever top the sacrifice their parents made, two years ago.

* * *

Someone was watching them. He couldn't see them, of course, but he knew they were there. It was like how someone could feel someone else approaching, even if they were a few feet away. Mitsuo was always alert, never-ending. He was always watching, observing. It was one of his skills. A skill he'd been forced to have.

A shadow that was out of place, that could not be cast without the presence of an object. A dog that looked out of place, sitting staring. The fleeting figure of an observer from the rooftops. He knew when someone was reaching in their pocket for money, and he knew when someone was reaching for a rock. He could tell when someone accidentally bumped into him, and he could tell when someone "accidentally" bumped into them.

He could see the malice in people's eyes when it was hidden, and he could see the anger when it was smothered. Malicious intent came and went around Mitsuo, and he was able to channel it out and ignore it with ease. It was not hard for him to filter out natural footsteps and natural ones. It wasn't hard to hear a hushed conversation over the roaring sounds of the marketplace. When they were treated as they were, it paid to be observant.

That observance meant avoiding a rock to the face. That observance meant the difference between a bruise and a cut. That observance meant avoiding a situation he couldn't get them out of. While Naruto was only young, he had a fair appetite. He may only manage half a cup of ramen- an amount that was likely to increase as he got older- but what he didn't eat got taken back home to be eaten the day after.

As they sat underneath the glow of Ichiraku's Ramen, Mitsuo observed Naruto's perfect balance. When he was eating his ramen, there was nothing that could distract him. He could become hyper-focused to an extent where getting slapped at the back of the head wouldn't bring him out of it. Mitsuo had seen that looked before, on their father. He was young, but not stupid.

The resemblance between the three of them was incredibly strong, and it was no secret that the Yondaime had two sons before he died. But it was also no secret that _both_ children died as a consequence of the attack. They were absolute mirrors, apart from that Mitsuo had shorter hair, more flatter then Naruto's. It didn't seem to grow much. Mitsuo remembered clearly that their father had, as a general rule, not taken any work home.

He did it all at the office- well, either he did it, or a shadow clone did. But on occasion, especially as Kushina got further along with the pregnancy, he brought some home. He'd had the same look on his face as Naruto did with ramen- not even their Mom with her frying pan could snap him out of it. As Naruto scarfed down his food, chopsticks clumsily in hand as his handhold was corrected by Mitsuo, he saw a man on the roof opposite, feet curled over the top, crouched down as if observing.

It wasn't the first time he'd noticed being observed- there was a distinct difference between being _watched_ and being _observed-_ but whoever it was seemed content to just sit and watch. Usually, when he spotted someone, they turned tail and disappeared as quickly as they could, almost as if they could trick his mind into thinking it was an illusion. But this one did not, just watching patiently. Though he kept his guard up, he calmly returned to his ramen, taking a mouthful of it and swallowing.

"Mitsuo!"

He pulled on his brother's sleeve, the remains of his ramen around his mouth. He took one look at Naruto's face, and laughed a little, wiping it away with a tender reach. He grinned gummily, eyes meeting Mitsuo's as the sky seemed to brighten a little.

"I've finished!"

_Yes._ Mitsuo thought, thinking back to their father, the relief he had always exhibited after finishing his workload, the sheer joy he radiated when he learnt that Kushina was pregnant again. _We're just like him. I'm a little jaded maybe… but you Naruto? You're the embodiment of Dad._

* * *

"Mitsuo? A story about Dada?"

Mitsuo smiled tenderly, lost in memory for the briefest of moments, before dipping his head. It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to ask, not at all. While the memory of their parents was very much alive in his mind, he didn't remember many stories about their exploits. He knew the most common ones, such as the time where their Mom got angry at their Dad and his squad for forgetting their kunoichi's birthday, and had nearly beaten them into submission until Dad had calmed her down, but there were many he didn't know.

Some, he learned walking the streets after the Kyūbi's attack, although they were much grittier and all in all, not good as a bedtime story. So, he tended to add some embellishments. Keeping the same asset of the story, but making it more suitable for Naruto to hear. He didn't want him to have nightmares after all.

"I think we can do that."

He agreed easily, tucking in Naruto, but making sure the blankets weren't constricting. Naruto was sat up, legs crossed, but Mitsuo gently guided him back down into his bed. While he didn't doubt that Naruto could fall asleep standing up if he really put his mind to it, it was bad form. Whenever he spoke, it didn't escape Mitsuo's notice that Naruto followed every word, hanging on at the end.

He got enraptured by the simplest story, the image almost coming to life inside his head. He settled down next to the bed, resting his shoulder on the bedside cabinet. _He should really be in a crib… but a bed is all we have._ To make up for the lack of a crib, he had built up the sides of the bed, in order to make sure that Naruto couldn't fall off the bed. The duvet was bright orange, a sunrise kind of colour, warm and comforting. It was also the colour of the fox, but nobody needed to be reminded that.

Least of all him.

"Once, there was a girl with hair like fire. She possessed incredible power and was a strong ninja even without that. Her sealing was unparalleled, able to seal both the largest creature and the smallest with no trouble at all."

Naruto squirmed from underneath his covers, flinging them off and pulling his shirt up, revealing the seal which had stood strong all these years. Nobody else could see the seal- Naruto, being his usual wily self, had gotten himself sodden when he'd been playing in the water, so he'd taken the shirt off to prevent hypothermia- and nobody had noticed the seal.

It was as if the seal was invisible to the naked eye. Mitsuo could always see it though, always feel the other half of the fox within his brother, and he knew his brother felt it too.

"Like this!"

He chirped, tracing the swirl of the seal. Mitsuo caught his wrist lightly, before lowering it back to the side, tucking his brother back in. He nodded with a grin, despite his unease at fiddling with the seal. _Our father's dying seal is within us Naruto. It keeps the beast contained, stops it from taking over. If that were to happen again…_

He forced himself to stop that chain of thought before it going. Thinking about his parents and the attack was just setting him up for nightmares later. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to be lost within the mysticism of the story, thinking of the happy faces of his parents then the sad ones.

"If someone crossed her, her hair would jump to life, waving in the air like a lion possessed. Her eyes would possess a glint in them, and you would regret crossing her. She was capable of wielding thick golden chains, shining with such a vibrant light that you would be left in awe just seeing them. One day, her parents migrated to Konoha, the village that was hidden in the leaves. She never really fit in well around there, her class calling her tomato, because of her unusual hair. But she was stubborn, and she would give as good as she got. So good, she was nicknamed the "Red Hot Habanero" because of her spitfire attitude."

This story was one that their Mom told him all the time. After they died, he made sure to commit them all to memory, so that he could keep the spirit of their parents alive with Naruto. He may never have met them, but he could learn about them nonetheless.

Family was something that Mitsuo believed he would cling tightly to, and for better or for worse, he brought Naruto up with the same values. _To cherish and to love. To hold and to have._ He kept his father's words alive, especially the one's he said closer to the end of his life. They were good grounds to live by, and he wanted Naruto to not only be himself but be able to think independently.

"At the same time, there was a young boy in the same class. With eyes like the sky and hair like a bolt of lightning, he was small and meek for his age. He'd never taken part in the jeering, and secretly, he loved the girl's red hair. He was the highest scorer in the class, strong and smart in his own right. A quick study, able to know every corner and inch of a room, each jutsu coming to him by simply reading about it once. The boy largely ignored the girl, unsure of his feelings, and unsure of her attitude. He was intimidated by her, no matter how much he wanted to convince himself otherwise."

The image of their father bashfully ignoring their mother was an amusing one, and for a moment, he lost himself in the tale. He could almost trick himself into thinking that they were there, looking after them, playing with them both and teaching them right from wrong. The warm embrace of his father, and the adoring kisses on their head.

The illusion snapped at the same time there was a pit in his stomach, the queasy feeling of grief rocking, unsettling him. Putting on a faux smile, unwilling to let his brother know of his plight, he continued on with the story, Naruto's eyes slowly becoming hidden by his heavy lids.

"The boy rescued the girl when she'd been taken away against her will. Using his knowledge and his tracking skills, he found her and rescued her, carrying her all the way back to the village. The boy had done what the best village shinobi couldn't. From then on, the boy loved the girl, and the girl loved the boy. They got together, and had two children, the boy going on to run the village and make it a place for all."

His voice drifted off, giving a whimsical note to it. The end of the story was a has-been, a what could have happened. Naruto may only be two, but he was already ahead of his peers in so many ways: whether it was a fault of his or not, Mitsuo didn't know. He smiled softly at his sleeping brother, watching the slight huffs of breath.

_He looks so peaceful._ _Is it selfish to hope I can keep him like this?_ Silently, he got up, leaving the small room and leaving the door slightly ajar, a small bit of light creeping through the door. Mitsuo's breath was rattly, the terror of the attack becoming vivid to his mind yet again, the blood, the sad smile of his parents as they bled out in one another's arm. The burn of the Kyūbi as it entered him. Shaking his head to throw away the illusion, he sat down on the floor, head in his hands.

Sleep was a long time coming that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Our Father's Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I trained hard, and I trained alone. Nobody would take me in as a genin. Nobody would help me pass the Academy. Where people had their parents, I had myself. I fit in training between looking after Naruto and chores. And when the time came for Naruto to go into the Academy- well, I trained him the best I could. I didn’t want him to suffer like I had. I couldn’t make the stares of the villagers go away- but I could damn near make him less vulnerable.”

Training wasn't an easy feat. The lessons within the Academy that he was taught, were something that came naturally to him. He was not boasting: the jutsu he was taught came to the tips of his fingers easily. The hand signs came fluidly, barely hesitating by this point as he went from one to another, almost feeling his father standing behind him, mimicking his actions. The looks he got at the Academy were annoying, distracting almost.

His teacher's looks, when his presence was even noted, were a mixture of surprise, nostalgia, and hurt. _Another person who thinks because I contain the fox, I am the fox._ While he was ignored, the lessons were useful to him. He could learn by observing, mimicking his sensei's actions with ease and fluidity.

The only thing getting him through the academy was Naruto, who he'd been forced to leave in their apartment. Whereas others would sit and play when they had a break and lunch, Mitsuo learnt to be fast, knowing how much time he could spend back at their apartment before he had to go back. He was a diligent brother and a diligent student, and he never let Naruto be alone for long.

The other children were content to play "ninja" and to chase one another around. He couldn't do that, he was too different. Where they were unburdened, free-spirited, he was not. He was serious and stubborn. Committed to his brother. No matter where he walked, he was an outsider, and the parents of the children thought he couldn't hear the muttered whispers of "demon" and "stay away."

He pretended he couldn't hear them, let it run down his back harmlessly, developing the thick skin that he was going to need. If he was going to be a good brother, he needed to help his brother. And to help his brother, meant to be a good shinobi.

The better he did, the more money he'd get, the more things he could get for Naruto that he himself could never have. That was why he was in the middle of an open field, in the forest that skirted around Konoha, practising his Ninjutsu diligently. Naruto was off to the side, watching in amazement as Mitsuo performed the simplest of jutsu, making sure they were nowhere near Naruto. It was difficult to practise when you didn't have a training partner, but with no other options, it was the only option.

There was a small part of him that was looking forward to Naruto being old enough to spar, but that was a long time coming. He was only two after all, and he'd never allow any harm to come to him. While the image of a two-year-old Naruto trying to do ninjutsu was entertaining, it was irresponsible to even entertain the thought. Pressing his hands together, he went through the seals for the most basic clone jutsu. _Ram. Snake. Tiger. Ox. Tiger._

Because he had so much chakra, he'd learned he had to actually lengthen the number of signs for the clone jutsu. Those extra signs focused it and while it used more chakra, it meant that the clones didn't explode upon existence.

"Bunshin no Jutsu!"

He found that calling out the name of the jutsu helped him concentrate. Of course, for every jutsu, there were two names. The old name, one written in the original language of the Sage, and the new one, the more modernised variant. Both were taught. Strictly speaking, it didn't matter which one you used, and it didn't matter whether you said them out loud or not. You could even mix the two languages if you so wished.

Saying it out loud helped concentration, but also made it easier for enemies to read your movements. The more familiar you were with the jutsu, the less you needed to call its name out. And the more familiar you were, the fewer seals you had to do. Their father had never needed to use the symbols for the Hiraishin and could do jutsu with only one hand. He aspired to be as good as his father, but not to replace him. Nobody could replace the Yellow Flash of the Leaf.

Naruto looked up at him, tilting his head as his clone appeared in a puff of smoke. This jutsu in particular had taken a while to learn, and not because it was complicated. It wasn't. As an Uzumaki, he'd learned he had a pretty hefty chakra reserve. That had only gotten worse with the introduction of the Kyūbi.

It was potent and strong, wily and difficult to control. It was difficult to coax and measure out, and too much would cause the clone to explode in a puff of smoke. Too little, and it would look like an emaciated version of himself. It had taken him a while to work out how much to give, and how much wouldn't cause it to blow up in smoke.

His clone stood next to him, looking identical if you could ignore how it couldn't cast a shadow and would disappear if the breeze so much as blew it the wrong way. Still, the clone gave a wave before he dispelled it, the clone disappearing just like it had appeared. Next, he got a small rock, placing it on the ground, testing the weight of it. Not too light, but not impossibly heavy either. Perfect to practise his chakra control.

Pressing his hands together, he made his way through the sequence in perfect order, feeling his chakra pull and circle in response to his gestures. _Monkey. Snake. Ram. Bird._

" _Wind Style: Kaze Fuuchuufuyuu no Jutsu!"_

This jutsu wasn't strictly an "academy" jutsu. They didn't really know of this, in all honesty. It was something he'd made when first trying to get used to his nature. He hadn't even really been told his nature- he'd just assumed that because his father's was wind, his was too. In his mind, it was confirmed when every other style he'd tried practising with, took a lot more effort than anything else.

Well, that wasn't strictly true. He'd only ever tried a few other ninjutsu styles: and most of them had blown up in his face, and not in the figurative sense. Mitsuo's drive to learn quickly outpaced the Academy, hence why he was trying to do things above his level. Still, he'd tried kneading his chakra into the different types, not doing anything, and stringing together hand signs.

Not the best practise, admittedly, but it wasn't like he had anyone telling him not to do it.

Fire had been warm, comforting. It felt wrong in his hands compared to wind, but it wasn't painful or irritating. Lightning had been much the same once he'd gotten that straightened out- it had been unwilling to come to his hands naturally. Water felt like slimy tendrils covering his hand, sticky and clingy and cold. He didn't like it and combining that with his already shoddy chakra control, he was lucky it hadn't exploded in his face. Earth was neutral, didn't feel wrong or right, and while it still took some effort to meld, it didn't make him uncomfortable.

And wind? Well, wind felt soothing, like his _Haha's_ hugs, or the exhilaration that he remembered whenever his _Chichi_ Hiraishined with him. Should he have found a highly advanced technique fun at such a young age? Probably not. But he had, and there wasn't much changing it.

This jutsu was one he'd created trying to practise balancing his chakra and wind nature. The small rock slowly floated up to about head height, before staying there, suspended almost. Most people could do this without the wind nature, but again, practise made perfect. Too much wind, and it went soaring into the sky, or shooting out in the wrong direction.

Too little, it would just sink miserably, plummeting to the ground. He kept it there for a few minutes, moving it to the left, right, and even throwing and catching it. He repeated the same gesture for a larger rock, this one heavier and requiring more concentration. Each weight required more concentrating, and moving the rock up went from a one-fingered gesture to two whole palms.

He dropped it, looking over at Naruto who was watching in delight, and he decided to work on a more useful jutsu. They were good and all, but fairly useless in a battle- what harm was the ability to levitate an object going to cause, and what exactly could a simple clone do? Absolutely nothing. Which was why he wanted to learn a technique he held close to his heart.

A technique he had many fond memories of: the Hiraishin. It wasn't easy- and it wasn't something he could just copy from memory alone. Their father had become so efficient at it that he hadn't needed to do the hand gestures any more- or invoke the name for that matter- and this was long before Mitsuo was born. He had no idea what the hand gestures were, and could only remember the sensation of travelling, stepping from one place to another.

Even with the scroll their father had left them, sealed with the kunai that Mitsuo had been gifted, it was difficult. There was also the matter of the letter that had accompanied it; a letter which Mitsuo hadn't been able to read. It remained coiled within the kunai, always with him, taunting him with its presence. Every time he tried to open it, his gut filled with dread, along with a sense of guilt. His arms would quiver, his throat sore, words escaping him.

Images of the fox taunted him, fangs dripping in front of him, their parents' bodies hanging limply off the claws. That was why he hadn't opened it- he was a coward. He was afraid that reading that letter would open a floodgate he couldn't shut again. He read the scroll time and time again, his father's intricate handwriting burning into his eyes.

It contained everything one would need to know on how to do the Hiraishin: the symbols, the seals, how to place the seal on an object or a person. He didn't want to learn it because he wanted to replace their father: no, he wanted to learn it so he could hold on to those memories, to be able to head back to his brother at a seconds notice.

That technique had saved his life, his brother's life, and had prolonged their parents'. He did not care for the title of fastest shinobi alive: he only cared about his brother. Mitsuo closed his eyes, calming his breathing, concentrating on nothing but the brand on his father's kunai, the seal burning bright with fluorescent light in his mind. It sent out its own signals, almost broadcasting its position, allowing Mitsuo to focus on it, and only on that.

The sounds of the world around him dimmed, everything becoming muted, and he felt almost detached from his body like he was being pulled away. He imagined himself being pulled towards the kunai, going from point A to B, but there was a sharp tug at his chakra, as pain filled his body. The pain caused him to snap out of his trance, dropping to the floor, the pain feeling like the most painful cramps imaginable.

His awareness of the kunai's position dimmed, and Naruto looked his way, eyes widening as he saw his brother's crumpled form. As Naruto began to crawl over, distracted, eyes no longer alight with joy, Mitsuo took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, his breaths that threatened to run away from him. The wheeze-like gulps of air he was taking, and the burning that radiated all around his body, no area safe.

_Maybe enough training for today._ He grimaced, eyes squeezing shut, hands almost clawing into the dirt. Naruto finally made his way over to him, his knees all grazed, his bottom lip trembling. His eyes were wavering, and he stopped short of Mitsuo, who had managed to get his bearings back by this point.

"Mitsuo!"

Squinting his eyes shut, pushing down that panic, and that pain, he forced himself to wear a grin he most certainly didn't feel, his hand reaching out to Naruto, placing it on his shoulder, looking at his slightly bloody knees. Shakily forcing himself to his feet, he offered Naruto his hand, picking the kunai up and tucking it in his waistband pocket, the metal as light as ever.

"I'm okay Naruto. Your big brother is just being a little silly."

Silly was one word for it.

* * *

Of course, that didn't stop him from trying to learn it. He was just more careful about it now. He didn't want Naruto to see him like that again if he could help it. _Seeing me like that, he might gain a fear that is hard to remove. If he gets that, there's little chance of him becoming a shinobi until he moves past it._ And while Mitsuo didn't care what his brother chose to do- he could be a farmer or a civilian for all that it mattered- he knew that Naruto was likely to follow in his steps, lie he'd followed in their fathers. From what he could tell, when he focused on something with the seal, it would pull at his chakra, in order to move him from one place to another.

While this amount would slowly lower- his father would never be able to constantly teleport if it ate up so much chakra- what had gone wrong the first time was that he let the seal constantly eat his chakra. He didn't stop it, and he didn't complete the transfer. It just kept going and going until he collapsed from chakra exhaustion, and snapped out of the trance-like that. Naruto was napping, and Mitsuo was sitting on the floor, cross-legged and deep in thought.

_You make things look so easy, dad._ He thought to himself, the happy image of his Mom and Dad, in the few seconds after Naruto's birth. Eyes alight with joy, pride radiating from them. The tender kisses that he'd received from both parents alike. Sometimes, when he caught himself talking to their parents in his head, he felt a little embarrassed.

He didn't they could hear him, and he felt a little self-conscious about it. It didn't stop him from doing it… but yeah. He didn't really know what he was expecting: it certainly wasn't an answer. Although, if there was a way to speak from beyond the grave- they would be the ones to find it. _Even when you were busy as the Hokage, you found time for us all. Every jutsu you saw, you could replicate it almost perfectly. I wish I could do that._

He scrubbed at his eyes violently, emotions threatening to boil over. He kept his mouth firmly shut, swallowing sobs, and keeping his breathing as deathly soft as he could. His throat became sore, his body trembling despite trying to keep himself calm. _I'm sorry. I miss you so, so much. I try to be strong, for Naruto… but it's so difficult dad. I'm sorry if I'm not the son you wanted._

He could almost feel a gentle embrace around him, filling him with warmth. Maybe it was his imagination but… he'd allow himself the wishful thought. Just this once.

* * *

Mitsuo was walking back from the Academy during his lunch break. Like usual, he'd slipped away unnoticed- nobody cared where he went as long as he stayed away from their children and didn't influence them. The day so far had been a fairly quiet one at the Academy, the lesson being on escaping rope. A lesson that was a little bit difficult to learn when he had no partner to tie him up and the teacher wasn't willing to come near him.

Almost as if Mitsuo would give them a curse coming into mere contact. Mitsuo would just have to hope that if he ever got tied up, he'd be able to recreate what he learnt. Without any kind of practice. He ignored the hushed jeers, the taunts and the jabs as he walked through the streets, only wanting to get home and see Naruto, who had been alone since early morning.

Curling his fingers in, he reached into his pocket as he reached the door, unlocking it. He could sense someone behind him again, but he ignored it, stepping into his apartment. Normally, he'd be concerned, rattled. He'd take Naruto as far away from the apartment as he could, and skip school for the rest of the day. They'd spend a few days in the forest, taking Naruto "camping." Foraging off the land, picking up mushrooms and whatever else they could gather. Survival training was his claim.

This had only happened a few times, however, so they'd had precious few of the camping trips: or at least, they'd not had many emergency ones. He wasn't stupid enough to leave his two-year-old brother alone with an unknown shinobi watching him. The last thing he wanted was his brother kidnapped for being a Jinchūriki. But this person had been watching them both for a while now and had made no moves towards him and his brother.

He'd had ample opportunity to, but… he seemed to be only watching. He knew the figure didn't mean harm- they were different compared to some of the others. There was something familiar about the aura of the man- there was a familial side to it. Mitsuo just couldn't place it- it was a foggy memory, right at the back of his mind, narrowly escaping his hold every time he reached out for it. He let himself into their apartment, seeing Naruto sitting, cross-legged, looking cheeky as ever.

His grin was wide, bearing his pearl-white baby teeth, his hands taking the brunt of his weight on the floor. The window was open, ajar but mostly shut. He hadn't left it like that, and Naruto stood up, a little shaky, running towards him and hugging him with some force. Any shinobi worth their salt wouldn't leave such an obvious clue that they'd been in there unless they'd _wanted_ Mitsuo to know.

"Mitsu!"

The person in question tilted his head, as Naruto offered him a small bit of crumpled paper. Intrigued, he took it as he picked his brother up, tickling his stomach and carefully placing him on his shoulders, jumping up and down a little to tease him. Keeping his right hand on Naruto's leg to hold him steady, he read the note, which was short, sweet, and astute.

_Mitsuo. I can watch Naruto while you are at the academy. I've noticed you've got sharp attention to detail. Dog._ Mitsuo looked at it oddly, for a minute thinking he'd misread the signature. _Who names their kid Dog? Unless it's an alias… actually, I think it is an alias. Whoever it was, they seem to know me well._

Mitsuo looked out at the window, the figure still there. He was crouched at the end of the building, eyes locking with Mitsuo's- or at least, he assumed they were, considering he couldn't see that far of a distance. It looked like he was wearing some kind of mask though… _That's Dog then- a man with many secrets._ He let Naruto slide down him like a pole, and made his way through to the kitchen, fixing his brother lunch.

"Come on then Naru! I know you're hungry!"


	4. A Dual Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know what my brother asked for, on his third birthday? He asked for parents. He asked where our Mom and Dad went. Why did they leave us, and why did the village hate us so? And I told him the truth because it was better then him living a lie. Better then him thinking that our parents had left us. I told him Mom and Dad had died heroes, that they saved the village. That they loved us very much, and that we were their living legacy. I was the one who told him about the demon in our stomachs, that the stares were from fear. I told him because nobody else would.”

Naruto’s birthday was a difficult day for Mitsuo. There were plenty of reasons for this. One, it was the time of year where the general public was more outwards with their violence. They tried to minimise their time outside on the day, because the memories of the Kyūbi's attack were fresh in their minds, making them more aggravated than usual.

It was more common for rocks to turn into more vicious weapons, and adults seemingly not caring that they were only children. While Mitsuo could hold his own in terms of keeping Naruto safe, he’d rather avoid the situation if he could. There was always the chance that he’d bite off more then he could chew. He didn’t want Naruto getting hurt on his birthday, the one day of the year that he tried to hype up so that Naruto would have something to look for.

Something _resembling_ a normal childhood.

The second reason Naruto’s birthday was difficult was that the pain of his parents’ deaths would hit him full on like a steam  train . This was another thing to be kept hidden from Naruto: he deserved to enjoy his birthday without his brother being upset. There would always be visits to the cemetery on Naruto’s birthday, leaving just before midnight to go there, using some money they had to give a bouquet to their parents. 

It was their routine, their ritual. It was when they went to pay respects to not only their parents but in a way, their saviours as well. The heroes of Konoha. Despite Mitsuo trying to explain where their parents were, and why they weren’t here, he always asked the same question, every year. And each year, Mitsuo’s heart broke just a little bit more. Naruto couldn’t know how much it hurt every time he asked the questions he did, and Mitsuo could not bear to lie. He did not understand, but that was okay- one day, he would.

There was a reason they went so late when they would both normally be fast asleep- well, _Naruto_ would be fast asleep. Not only would it be miserable to go in the middle of his brother’s special day, but the cemetery was especially busy on the anniversary of the attack. If they saw the two Jinchūriki at the cemetery… well, they wouldn’t be well received. Especially if they were paying respects to the Yondaime and his wife.

That of course led onto reason number three… their parents. By now, it was three years to the day since the attack had happened. Naruto’s birthday made it easy to remember that. And every year, the memories came back with even more intensity, if they ever really left. He wasn’t sure about Naruto, but on this day, he always felt more close to their parents on this one day of the year. Like whatever was separating them thin, and they could come to visit.

It was a naive thought, but considering Mitsuo didn’t allow himself many of those, he thought he could entertain this one. Of course, with the memories came the nightmares, something that Mitsuo had never managed to shake off. Whether it was the Kyūbi's taunting claw, or Naruto being pelted by stones until his death, they came and went like the passing tide- routine. Though he’d never broken out of them, long since having realised that they were never going to leave, he’d taught himself to be quiet.

To not make a sound. To make a sound would be to wake Naruto because while he could sleep like the dead, he had an inherent “Mitsuo is suffering” sense that gave him away when he made the softest cry. Naruto needed all the night’s sleep he could possibly get, and there was no point in the both of them being awake. At least during the night, he could get things done. Which was why he was awake at 7 am on a Saturday morning: he was getting the apartment ready for Naruto’s birthday.

He’d made many paper decorations, some with obnoxiously bright crayons on top of words that explained things like chakra or Jutsu. They were old and wrecked books that the Academy had chucked out, that Mitsuo had recycled into decorations- though they were kept out of view from the windows. To see such decorations on a day like this… it was asking for either a brick through the window or something worse. _Clone Seal._ _Ram_ _. Bird._

“ _Wind Style: Fūton Bunshin!”_

Another improvisation of his. There were many different types of clones, but none for the wind nature. Odd. And he knew of nobody who was willing to teach him another type of clone besides the normal one. So, during one of his self-imposed training sessions, he’d experimented with his wind nature and his clone jutsu. It turned out to be fairly explosive- luckily, he’d done it far away from Naruto and he’d been able to move out of the way in time.

It had taken a couple of tries, but he’d got it. They were a lot more useful than normal clones. They could punch, walk, do tasks. When they were done, they could cause hundreds of tiny slashes in someone at short range. They didn’t cast shadows, and he hadn’t managed to get them fully solid yet- he wasn’t sure if that was even possible- but there were a lot better then the normal clones. Two clones, though slightly corporeal, appeared next to him, looking at him mutely.

“Time to get to work.”

Between the three of them, they got the whole place redecorated. He’d painted, in big blocky letters “ _Happy Birthday Naruto!”_ and had hung it from the far left wall, right across to the far right wall. They pushed the limited furniture back against the walls, making one big open space for them to sit in later, where they’d have their picnic and what not at lunch.

It was a bit of a tax on his concentration to keep the clones so tightly wound up that they wouldn't just combust when they interacted with something, but considering that the task at hand wasn't too heavy in terms of the concentration department, he was doing alright balancing it.

One of his clones went into the kitchen and began to work his way through the list of all the things he wanted to make for Naruto- number one being a bright orange cake that he’d perfected by now- as the original Mitsuo and clone number two finished decorating the house. Some cheap lights here, some origami creatures there.

A blanket was set down on the floor to make up for the lack of cushions, and Naruto’s few presents were stacked up in the middle, wrapped up in the same recycled book papers. He’d tried to spice it up a bit my colouring in patterns, make it look nicer and more presentable. One gift was from Teuchi-san, letting Naruto- and consequently, Mitsuo- have ten free bowls of ramen. It didn’t sound like much, but that was ten bowls that the money could be saved on.

Ten bowls they could use whenever money was particularly tight. Mitsuo had gotten Naruto two gifts this year, though one was made himself. It was a hitai-ate and kunai- though not a real one. It didn’t really look much like a kunai, the tips blunt, and the blade slightly too wide at the hilt. It was made out of cheap metal which he’d welded using his fireball Jutsu, also recycled. The hilt was some leather which he’d made after he’d caught a small rabbit in the forest.

Mitsuo was nothing if not resourceful when it came to it, and it was one more gift Naruto could have. He’d also made a hitai-ate to go with it, out of some scraps of Naruto’s old jeans. Like many times before, Mitsuo was grateful for a needle and thread, and his night-owlish tendencies. It even had the metal buckle on the front- although, instead of the symbol for Konoha, it had the words for “ _Trainee Ninja.”_ along with a small leaf, different enough to the symbol for Konoha.

The second gift was more traditional, something he’d been out and bought. Or rather, Teuchi-san had bought it for Mitsuo, and he’d given the man the money. Had he gone himself, it was likely he’d be refused to be served, or worse, horrendously overcharged. It wasn’t much in the terms of things- a small stuffed toy, shaped like a dog. Its beady eyes were a woodsy brown, a button nose in the middle of the muzzle. The ears were rounded, as was the tail.

With orange fur instead of the traditional brown fur and a ninja hitai-ate around its head, so that it loosely draped over its eye, it was almost as far away from a tailed beast as it could be. It was bad enough that they housed the Kyūbi- but if they were walking around with a stuffed plush that resembled it… it would not go well.

It was currently wrapped up in the same features, although he’d stuffed it inside a box to try and obscure the shape. Once the room was set up, he nodded to the clones, before dispelling them, making sure that they didn’t explode and ruin all their hard work. The food had been laid on the floor surrounding the presents, with some of Naruto’s favourite foods besides ramen there.

His cake was still in the kitchen, cooling, the icing nearly ready to be decorated. He turned to face the window, feeling someone’s chakra flicker outside. The figure appeared fairly quickly and silently, like a shadow. Mitsuo opened the window to let him in- even though it was a formality at this point- and silently, his feet touched the flooring, staring at Mitsuo through his eerie mask. It was easy to see why he was called Dog.

His mask was white in appearance, with pointed, dog-like ears sticking out of the top. The eye slits were narrowed, shadows making the eyes obscured. Around each eye slit, there were red marks, almost a crimson colour. On each side of the mask, where the cheeks would be, there were two whisker-like marks of red, rounded, almost like a more deadly-looking version of his own.

The mouth was a curl, almost like the upper lip was constantly fixed in a snarl- intimidating despite the lack of teeth which Mitsuo could easily imagine. Despite the intimidating mask and air of silence he portrayed, Mitsuo trusted the man implicitly, for a few reasons. The fact that he trusted anyone was a miracle in itself considering everything that had happened.

One thing was that he’d met Dog before. He didn’t know when, he didn’t know how, and he didn’t know who. He knew that trusting someone you had vaguely met before, without knowing the circumstances, was not a good move. It was a recipe for a setup, for someone to be put in danger. Which led onto reason two- he was _sure_ this person had been around his father.

It wasn't that surprising, considering that his father had been the Hokage, but it didn't help him narrow it down either: his father had seen many people with the day to day operation of the village, and that made narrowing down Dog's identity quite difficult.

Ever the little shadow, one day he’d gone to work with his father. He didn’t remember much, the memories becoming faded with age. He’d been fairly small, maybe three or four, and for some reason, he’d gone to the Hokage’s office. One vivid memory was that it was covered in papers, the desk looking like someone had pulled pages out of tons of books. His dad had been wearing his cloak, and Mitsuo had scrambled up to his lap, hands on the wood, staring at all the paper as his father ruffled his hair.

Someone had come into the room who his father had introduced warmly and with a fond honorific. In return, the person had called him an honorific that was not Yondaime, Lord Fourth, or Hokage-sama. No matter how much he tried to focus, the only clear thing in the memory was his father, the desk full of paper, and the two pictures on the side of the desk, one of the three of them, and one of another group that he couldn’t quite remember.

He had a good memory, sure, but even he struggled to remember something he'd glanced once or twice for a few seconds, never focusing on it for long.

It _really_ irritated him. Perhaps Dog’s voice would have given something away, but he’d never spoken, just silence. Mitsuo bowed in greeting to Dog, who watched him with a stiff gait, emotions blank beneath the mask. Reaching into his pocket, he presented a wrapped present, in the exact same style that Naruto’s other presents were wrapped. It was weighty, and whatever it was seemed to be in a box.

“Thank you. For Naruto?”

There were certain questions you didn’t ask Dog. Mitsuo had never asked him his name, why he hovered around, or about his invested interest. If Dog wanted to be open, he would’ve spoken, or shown his face, or communicate beyond hand gestures and grunts. If Mitsuo wanted to find out his identity, then he'd have to do it himself. Dog nodded stiffly, his breathing remaining calm, his form tense.

“Would you like to take anything with you?”

There was no point asking if Dog was staying. He never did. Really, the food thing was a formality. He never took any of that either. He shook his head shortly, before disappearing the minute Mitsuo turned his back. Of course, you weren’t supposed to do that to someone you were unsure of, but again, another formality. Rolling his eyes, he placed the present next to the others, before heading through to wake up little Naruto: who was looking forward to his special day.

* * *

His eyebrows furrowed downwards, a sad expression taking place on his face as he finished opening his presents. The second of their father’s kunai sat in his hands, Mitsuo watching with eyes like a hawk as the three-year-old held it, making sure he didn’t cut his hands open. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Naruto just across from him, the slightest sense of _fear_ ran through his face, as Naruto’s eyes wavered, his bottom lip trembling. Mitsuo reached across, his hand resting on Naruto’s knee, squeezing it.

“What’s wrong, _Otōto?”_

Naruto’s bottom lip quivered, as he launched himself across the room, wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist with some degree of force. Surprised, his arms surrounded Naruto’s small frame as if trying to hold him together. The feeling of wet tears landed on his shoulders, and for a minute, they sat, in one another’s arms.

“Ssh ssh. I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong, Naru.”

His breathing hitched, he sniffled heavily, but he pulled back when he was ready, his eyes red and puffy from crying. His fringe had flopped down to cover part of his right eye, and he trembled in Mitsuo’s hold. His breathing kept hitching like he was trying to keep a sob down, and his eyes squinted as he tried to get his emotions under control.

“Are you going to tell me Naru? Or do I have to tickle it out of you?”

Despite his sobs, Naruto had a little giggle as Mitsuo feigned a lunge, tickling him in his stomach. He squirmed from side to side trying to escape Mitsuo’s clutches, and soon, the tears were replaced by squeals of laughter and peels of joy. A minute passed, in which he leant back, allowing Naruto to sit upwards in a sitting position yet again, staring at Mitsuo.

“I just… I hoped Mommy and Daddy would come today.”

Shivers like ice went down Mitsuo’s back as he felt bile rise in his throat. _Here’s the yearly question… and it’s something that Naruto longs for, but I can’t give him. No matter what I do, I can’t give him this. All the toys and ramen can’t replace our parents, and every time, my heart breaks._

Mitsuo picked up Naruto with practised ease, heading into his room, where on the cabinet with all his clothes, there was a picture of the three of them. The very same picture that had been on the desk all those years ago.

“That’s our parents, Naruto. Minato and Kushina. They can’t come to see us… because they died to save the village. Where they went, we can’t follow until we’re much, _much,_ older. But they adored you, and they are watching from here-”

He pointed to his heart, and then to Naruto’s, which caused the toddler to place his hand on his own chest, his eyes wide. Mitsuo drummed his fingers against Naruto’s chest as he adjusted his grip so that Naruto’s hands curled around Mitsuo’s waist. He reached out to the picture, making grabby hands, and Mitsuo brought him closer, studying the similarities between all of them.

“They loved us _Otōto_. If they could be here, they would. They loved us very much- never forget that.”

They stood in silence gazing at the photo of their parents, a sad look on both of their faces. Mitsuo brushed the tears out of Naruto’s eyes, holding the boy close to his chest so that he could hear Mitsuo’s heart. Naruto looked down, blue eyes flickering, tumultuous like an ocean’s tide.

“I wish I could see them.”

Naruto whispered, oddly mature for his age. _He understands._ Mitsuo thought, cradling his brother tightly, but not suffocatingly. He knew that there would be no more questions about their parents- or at least, not about where they were. A whimper emerged from both boys as Mitsuo’s voice went hoarse, rocking him as he finally got around to agreeing with his little brother, still gazing at the photo.

“Me too, _Otōto._ _Me too.”_


	5. Uchiha Itachi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t resent our father. Not in the slightest. He was in a tough situation, and he did as any Hokage should- he saved the lives of the many, with the least amount of deaths. I was there when he gave his final words: that we were not to be feared as demons, but honoured as heroes. Only that never happened, and we were ostracised, just as he feared. The village that he sacrificed his life to protect, turned it’s back on his sons without a second thought. I raised Naruto to remember our parents, to honour their sacrifice. To know that there was no other way. I was the one who told him why he couldn’t do a simple Jutsu, and I was the one who told him how to circumvent the problem. All things that a parent should have been telling him, a guardian. But he had nobody else but me.”

Ever since then, Mitsuo told more stories of their parents. And they were more accurate recounts, even if they were still somewhat edited. The whimsical light that emerged in Naruto’s eyes when he described their father in combat, their mother’s caring nature. He was determined to keep the memory of their parents alive as if they were there with them.

He kept how they died out of the stories though… Naruto didn’t need to know about them dying to seal the fox within them, to save their lives. That would… break a child. It certainly broke him. So, without painting their parents as gods, he told more detailed versions of the stories he’d previously told him. Naruto was four now and displayed an air of maturity that he’d never shown before.

Granted, he didn’t tell him about the bloody deaths, the violence, the bodies strewn all over Konoha shortly after the Kyūbi's attack. The screaming from those pinned under buildings, the blood-filled streets. Something told Mitsuo that giving his brother nightmares was not going to put him on the list for the “best big brother” award.

And that was why Naruto was gazing at Mitsuo, tilting his head, following along each thread of the carefully knitted tale, balancing the mirror of Mitsuo’s kunai. That was what Dog had given Naruto on his birthday, so the two brothers would have a memento of their father. On its hilt, the seal for the Hiraishin burned into Mitsuo’s eyes, shining almost the same yellow that their father had made every he used the technique.

* * *

_I got kidnapped once. I was only small, so I don’t remember much about it. I was maybe three or four, around about your age now Naru. I couldn’t do much- I could babble, walk, and talk, but I wasn’t as smart as you are now. Normally, I was followed around by some people our father knew. The Hokage’s son in wartime? A very good capture target for political reasons- which I’ll explain when you’re older. But some shinobi managed to spring on us, and they grabbed me and went- the one guard I was being followed by easily taken down and beaten. Chichi wasn’t happy. Nor was Haha._

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. _What_ happened to my son?”

Let it never be said that Namikaze Minato was a pushover; he most certainly was not. In fact, he was currently staring down his ANBU guards who were sweating under his gaze, his blue eyes hardened and flinty. The blond hadn’t become the Hokage by doing nothing after all.

There was a fire underneath those calm eyes, and though Minato spoke in a measured tone with no outright signs of anger, it was clear that his ANBU had fucked up. Badly. They scuffed their feet on the floor, none of them brave enough to repeat what they had said to the irate Yondaime. One could not simply go “we lost your kid.”.

“Somebody tell me before I go and get Kushina-”

“We lost him.”

Rabbit admitted, scratching behind his ear, swallowing as the temperature in the room almost cooled several degrees, as the Yondaime’s attention was fixed on Rabbit. The mere threat of the Red Hot Habanero was not one that wanted to be experienced. Kushina was _terrifying_ when she wanted to be. And nothing got her angrier than her husband and son being hurt. Rabbit cleared his throat again, upon seeing that nobody else was going to explain themselves.

“We left for a guard rotation, leaving only Bird with him. They jumped on Bird and took Mitsuo, Hokage-sama.”

He nodded, before looking at the entire assembled unit, arms crossed, reaching out for his son’s Hiraishin marker, which was moving at a fast speed away from Konoha. Crossing his arms, he gave out his orders, keeping his anger well subdued and his worry at a maintainable level.

They would want his son as a hostage- he wouldn’t be dead. The Hiraishin marker wouldn’t be reacting as it was if his son was dead, and it made no tactical sense for him to be killed. A dead son not only resulted in no leverage but a very pissed off Yondaime Hokage, to put it mildly. Young as he may be, he earned his moniker for a reason- and nobody could say he was an irresponsible parent. 

“Get a recovery team assembled _now._ Dog!”

As much as Minato wanted to call Kakashi, Kakashi, he couldn’t- not on duty anyway. He couldn’t show preference to any of his ANBU guards- although Kakashi would definitely be set as Mitsuo’s guard now after this shambles.

The rest of the ANBU filed out in various puffs of smoke as Kakashi appeared, mask as firmly fixed as ever. Considering his choice of summon, Dog was quite accurate. He offered a hand to Kakashi who accepted it, and Minato flash-stepped the two of them to Mitsuo’s seal, without waiting for the recovery team to be assembled. Why wait for the recovery team when the two of them could go just as quick.

_That’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. Apart from- you know what, never mind. I’ll tell you another time. Chichi just didn’t do anger- not with me, not with Haha, not with anybody. He was always calm, and nothing could ruffle his feathers. But when it came to my kidnapping, thanks to someone who had been aware of the shift in guards, it made him realise that security measures needed to be upped. They couldn’t have their times so predictable. It makes sense. He was a good Hokage, and I say that not as his son, Naru, but as a witness to his improvements to the village._

They appeared out of nowhere, the two of them attacking like a well-oiled machine. Both of them had their kunai out and sprung with efficiency, both aware of Mitsuo’s proximity to the farthest away kidnapper. Minato’s chakra flared, as he made the symbol for his shadow clone Jutsu, Kakashi doing the same but with his Chidori- speed was the name of the game.

His clones would serve as distractions as one of them leapt in with his Hiraishin, grabbing Mitsuo and getting him out of the battlefield as the rest of them finished off the kidnappers.

“Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

A hundred Minato clones appeared as Kakashi’s Chidori sparked next to him. The original Minato looked at Kakashi and nodded, lunging with extreme prejudice. One of the Minato clones flash-stepped towards Mitsuo, grabbing the small- but thankfully unhurt- child, disappearing just as fast before the kidnapper could collar him.

Kakashi’s cry of Chidori was heard as he charged forwards, striking one of them in the gut, impaling him. Every Minato clone split into groups, tackling the small platoon of kidnappers with ease. The real Minato took up battle with the ringleader, his kunai deflecting several shurikens thrown his way. He didn’t even look that old- not much younger then Minato himself. And while he was no pushover, the kid wasn’t a match for Minato.

“Rasengan _!”_

He formed the blue sphere with ease, the task taking no concentration at all by now. With a flex of his arm, he charged towards his opponent, pushing the blue sphere in front of him. The man flipped backwards sharply but was caught in the crossfire of the explosion of the Rasengan.

Still, he looked barely winded, evidenced as when the two of them launched towards one another again, locking blades yet again. Minato played on the defensive, blocking punches, kicks and occasional close-range shuriken. There was the signature “poof” sound that his clones made when they disappeared, but they couldn’t fight them off without becoming overwhelmed.

“Katon: Homura!”

 _Well, this fight is getting interesting. Too bad I need to get back to my son and Kushina. And the likely annoyed ANBU guards- although two can play at that game. Maybe a shuffle of the guards is in order._ A massive plume of fire launched towards Minato, who simply stood and watched as his clone snuck up behind him.

He waited until the last possible moment, until the flames were licking at his robes, and the heat was surging at his face, and Kakashi opened his eyes just a little bit more, and Minato smiled- before swapping places with his clone. A simple feat, that had often amusing results.

“Not so fast now, are you Hokage?”

Minato rolled his eyes, he hated cocky people. He tapped the man on the shoulder, and as he spun around, he promptly got punched twice- one from his last remaining clone on the battlefield who’d stuck around to get an extra punch as revenge- and one from actual Minato. He went out like a light, and promptly got tied up as Minato went around applying chakra suppression seals on them all. Not soon after that, his ANBU recovery squad appeared, looking slightly stressed and guilty.

“What took you so long? These are the guys. Take them to T&I”

He gestured towards the bound and gagged men, before turning and flash-stepping to where his clone was, dispelling him as soon as Mitsuo was safety in his arms, hugging onto him tightly. Minato tickled his stomach as he smiled at his son, kissing him gently on his forehead.

“Am I glad to see you? Come on, we’d better get you to your _Okāsan._ She must be worried out of her mind by now.”

* * *

“What’s the Hir.. Hir-ay…”

“The Hiraishin?”

Naruto nodded, picking at his nails which Mitsuo pulled his hand from. The kunai had fallen to the right of his lap, its blade resting flat against the floor. _How do I explain this to him… he never saw Dad in action, and there’s nobody else alive to show him the technique._

_I certainly can’t- considering I can’t even move a short distance. Maybe I can get my Hiraishin seal to appear? Or Naruto’s? I know they don’t disappear after his death, or at least that much can be assumed. Otherwise, his kunai wouldn’t have the markers on there now._

Mitsuo placed his hand on the back of his neck, moving his hair up and out of the way, as his hand glowed blue. When Naruto gasped, he knew the seal had reacted to his chakra, and he abruptly cut off the flow, allowing it to disappear- or so he assumed.

The Jinchūriki seal had appeared too, but he knew better than to interact with that. He wasn’t the biggest lover of the village, sure, but he wasn’t about to wage the Kyūbi on them. That would just be a petty idea and a suicidal one at that.

“The sigil on my neck is normally invisible- but it acts as a beacon, and it was to allow father to teleport to me when needed. The Hiraishin was his signature technique: it allowed him to move from one place to another, whether it was a human or an object, as long as it had his sigil. Our father was already fast… the Hiraishin just intensified that. I think you have a sigil too, Naru…”

Mitsuo thought he’d explained it fairly well. It was difficult to explain when he didn’t understand it fully himself. Bringing his chakra to his hand again, he placed it on Naruto’s shoulder, willing the seal to come to life. He wasn’t exactly sure why it would react to his chakra, but then again, the mark couldn’t be removed without some kind of complicated measure.

And when the only man who could make use of it was dead, there wasn’t much point. Or so he thought. As the sigil on Naruto’s side glowed, Mitsuo was hit by so many of things at once, Naruto’s eyes snapping quickly from the sigil on his side to his wincing brother. His hand fell to his side as he felt drills digging into his head, the white-hot pain only increasing in intensity, causing his eyes to scrunch closed in an attempt to push past it.

His jaw locked, teeth gritting together tightly as his hands curled. The information came flooding in like a tidal wave, locations, places, kunai and seals. Before, he’d only been consciously aware of where Naruto’s kunai and his own were. Now, there were _hundreds_ of seals. All ones that had never been removed. There was one in the Hokage’s office, one in the woods surrounding Konoha.

One in their old house, one on Naruto. The information _hurt_ as it was forced in his head, before it abruptly stopped, and slotted into place. Groaning, he slowly opened his eyes, slowly pushing himself back into a sitting position.

“Mitsuo?”

Naruto asked, shaking his form gently. Rubbing his eyes, pinching his eyebrows, and rubbing his forehead, he nodded a little. _I think… I might have become aware of every one of Dad’s markers. That was… not my intention. That hurt._ Like he usually did, he deflected Naruto’s worry with the same phrase he’d used when he’d been eight and severely drained his chakra.

“I’m okay Naruto. Your big brother is just being a little silly.”

Naruto wasn’t amused.

* * *

“Ya know, Mitsuo. We’re proud of you.”

Mitsuo blinked, looking at the form of his five-year-old self, only a year before the Kyūbi's attack. He didn’t remember this conversation, but it felt so real. He looked at his hands, unscarred with none of the marks he’d acquired since he pushed his way through the Academy, become a chūnin at such a young age.

But it was definitely his mother in front of him, and as he remembered her: warm blue eyes, fiery red hair that draped down past her back. A simple white shirt with an almost green dress on the top. She looked happy, leaning into Minato’s side, who was in his Hokage robes, looking remarkably unbloodied and joyful. It was as if a mirror image of Mitsuo was reflected in front of him in the form of his father, who still had that content smile on his face, warm and fatherly as he remembered.

They both looked too happy for people who were _long dead._ Mitsuo narrowed his eyes, a look that didn’t suit his five-year-old form. He looked like a child trying to be an adult- but that was what he was trying to be, wasn’t it? _Am I in a genjutsu? This seems… off. Or the Kyūbi maybe? Though it never influenced my dreams before._

“Dreams aren’t the Kyūbi's style, ya know? And it’d be more of a nightmare then.”

Kushina pointed out, still blissfully chirpy. _How… is she so chirpy?_ He was slightly confused, even more so then he had been two seconds ago. _So maybe this isn’t a Kyūbi dream then… although genjutsu is still likely. But the last thing I remember is going to sleep…_ He performed “Kai” to dispel any genjutsu he was under, but everything remained the same, his parents still standing in front of him.

“Not a genjutsu either. When I made your seal… there was another condition I added to it. If you accessed my Hiraishin network.”

Minato told him, moving a couple of steps closer to Mitsuo. Mitsuo’s heart longed to go towards him, genjutsu or not, but he forced himself to stay back. It was thought that he was somewhat resistant to genjutsu… which made him think it wasn’t that. His mom and dad had been known for being seal masters… so it wasn’t that improbable.

He’d already put other conditions inside his seal… why not this one? Keeping himself as collected as he could, despite the sore feeling in his throat, he raised an eyebrow curiously. While it was by no means impossible, it was a hell of a leap to assume that he _would_ want to learn the Hiraishin. _Plus, if what he says is true, why is Mom here? She wouldn’t be able to teach me the Hiraishin._ Minato had a sly smile on his face, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in amusement. This whole thing was odd… here he was, seeing his parents when he hadn’t seen them in _years._

“You’re my son. I left you the scroll- it was a matter of _when_ you learnt it, not _if.”_

Kushina nudged Minato, and he adjusted his behaviour. The images from their deaths stuck out to him, and no much how much he wanted to clear it from his mind, it was engraved almost, etched into his mind almost as deep as the scars he bore that day. His whole form trembled as he remembered his parents, and his hands scratched at the side of his arms, almost gouging them.

“It’s really you?”

He whispered, his eyes softening, his bottom lip trembling like Naruto still did. Upon both their nods, Mitsuo couldn’t hold it in any more, bursting out into tears and charging towards his parents, who embraced him in a hug that he’d been craving for so long.

The realisation that they would leave again didn’t escape him, but for now, he was content with the warm hug he was receiving, the warm hug he’d been wanting for so long. Minato placed his hands on Mitsuo’s forehead, relieving the pressure build-up by touch alone. _I missed you so, so, much._ He thought, burrowing his head into the crook of Minato’s neck.

“We missed you too, _Supāku._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supāku - means Spark.


	6. Uchiha Itachi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uchiha Itachi. One of my few friends in the village. Someone who treated me and Naruto as an equal. We worked together as the only duo of ninjas in the village,- we knew each other’s weaknesses, two loners working off of one another’s backs like clockwork. We both had brothers to protect- brothers we would do anything for. And that was something we could bond over.”

_ His parents had eventually had to leave- if they used too much of their chakra within him, they wouldn’t be around to help him with the Kyūbi if push came to shove. As much as his soul felt heavier after that, he was grateful in a way. He saw his parents one extra time, something many other people didn’t get. When he’d asked his dad why his Mom had been there in the Hiraishin condition, he admitted it’d been an accident. _

_ Their chakra had mingled together during the final condition, added after the other two as an afterthought, and, he’d said, it would have taken too much time to untangle it when it wouldn’t do him any harm. And while it had not been intentional in the least, Minato gave his signature grin as he leant into Kushina’s side, with Kushina commenting “You get to see us together one last time, dattebane.” _

_ Mitsuo never thought he’d miss a word as much as he missed dattebane. He used to echo it after his Mom, but he’d stopped it after they died… the word having too many negative memories. Somehow, when his Mom said it… it made him happy. After the tough years that he and Naruto had, seeing his parents together… it gave him some kind of hope. _

_ And further still, he’d eventually see them again. As much as he’d love to see them again sooner, he wasn’t about to release the Kyūbi. He’d rather save it until he had no other choice, which was inevitable. As he aged, he’d noticed the Kyūbi, dormant at first, because more outspoken, but not vocal. It was slumbering and hadn’t emerged. _

_ Their father had given him some tips on the Hiraishin, along with some combos to try- and their mother had given him some embarrassing tips that had made the top of his ears turn red. So, he’d said a reluctant goodbye to his parents, with the promise of not pushing himself too much, and woke up, tears running down his face, but a happy smile on his face. He could still feel the echoes of the hug long after he woke up. _

* * *

A year had passed since then. And he’d found himself finding a friend in one Uchiha Itachi, a child prodigy, just like him. Itachi looked fairly normal on the surface. His black eyes were cold and calculating, but despite that, held an air of innocence to them. From their initial forced interaction, they were alike in nature, preferring to take things seriously then joke about them.

He had dark grey hair, often kept tied up in a low bun in an attempt to keep it out of the way, a low fringe that was spiky. His facial structure was pointed, and underneath his eyes, there were shadows, hanging low beneath his eyes. He wore a loose blue shirt with a tall collar, devoid of any clan insignia: in fact, the only insignia was that of Konohagakure, on Itachi’s hitai-ate.

They were both eleven years old, with two little brothers- Itachi’s brother Sasuke, who was slightly older than Naruto by a couple of months. He and Itachi, once they were closer, had set up playdates for the two children, so Naruto could get some interaction with people outside of Mitsuo. A _positive_ interaction. And the boys got on like a house on fire, which was a relief for Mitsuo.

_ He needs some kind of contact outside of me… otherwise, he’s going to grow up antisocial, unwilling to interact with people. And with Naruto’s bubbly personality, that would be a travesty.  _ Itachi was an Uchiha, which while hadn’t affected how Mitsuo had thought about him, had meant a lot in the grand terms of things.

Itachi was forced to obey strict standards as a clan heir, pushing himself up and up until he was well above those of his age. And they’d been recommended for the Chūnin Exams together. They’d actually gotten on quite well, for two introverts who kept themselves to themselves. Itachi couldn’t care that he and his brother were the Kyūbi containers, just like Mitsuo didn’t care that he was an Uchiha.

They were the only duo team to ever be put together: normally it was groups of threes and a sensei. But it was just the two of them, only sent on the most serious of missions. As a result, most of their time was spent with either their siblings or training. Which is what they were doing in training ground 0, specially assigned to them.

There was really no need for all of the special treatment but try as they might, they were both treated differently- Itachi because of his heritage, and Mitsuo because of his status as a Jinchūriki. Mikoto, Itachi and Sasuke’s Mom, was looking after Naruto and Sasuke so that the two boys could train without either child getting caught in the crossfire.

Mitsuo had been… reluctant about leaving Naruto alone with _anyone._ He’d been his sole company since he was a baby, and he was used to always being around his brother.

To let him be out of his sight… it was unnerving, almost terrifying for him. _I know I have to leave him if he chooses to become a shinobi, and it’s not the first time I’ve left him alone…_ Itachi had quickly slapped him upside the head and told him that he could trust his mother, and that she’d been a good friend of Kushina- of his mother. Mitsuo didn't remember much of that, truth be told- some memories despite his best efforts fell to the side, in favour of ones that... ripped into his psyche.

Both boys dropped down into a combat stance, although Itachi kept his Sharingan hidden, not to be used- _yet._ They both bowed to one another, eyes meeting, before they launched towards one another, crisscrossing as their blades locked in the centre of the training ground, dust kicking up around them.

They pushed against one another, before they flipped back just as quickly, skirting around the edges of the battleground, each one throwing shuriken. Some hit the others, ricocheting off of one another, but some went flying towards them. It didn’t take a Sharingan to tilt his kunai to deflect them, but it did take quick reflexes to dart out of the way of Itachi’s counter Jutsu.

“ _Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!”_

As was the Itachi way, he went through the hand signs quickly, the signs a blur from Mitsuo’s position on the field. The traditional Uchiha Jutsu came emerging, eating the air and roaring towards Mitsuo at an impressive speed. Had it been at a closer range, it would have hurt.

Even with the distance between them, it was going to be difficult to dodge, especially considering that he was already weak to fire. Thankfully, he’d prepared for this with a Jutsu that had taken him a while to learn, thanks to his lack of skill with earth style.

“ _Earth Style: Doryūheki!”_

He quickly performed the hand seals- _Tiger, Hare, Boar, Dog-_ before slamming his hands down on the earth. The ground began to rumble as it split apart, a wall made of compact dirt and grass emerging. Mitsuo kept his eyes up and alert as he could feel Itachi’s fireball smack against the wall, as the two Jutsu fought against one another for dominance.

The fireball was slowly gaining dominance, so keeping one hand as a focus point, he summoned his clone with his free hand- a trick he’d been worked heavily on. _Clone Seal. Ram. Bird._

_ “Wind Style: Fūton Bunshin no Jutsu.” _

In a demonstration of fine motor control, he swapped places with the clone, getting it to hold the Jutsu steady. He used the thick and cloggy smoke of the fireball Jutsu to disappear, henging into one of the fallen shuriken, forgotten about in the sides of the field. It was oddly cramped, changing into such a small object, but he stayed perfectly still, patience being his virtue, and the battle his reward.

The wall eventually collapsed, and the clone lunged at Itachi, who met it halfway. He seemed to look surprised when the clone exploded, causing him to retreat back a little, arms crossed, in order to avoid the cuts the clone was trying to inflict. He hadn’t been expecting that strategy, it seemed. Mitsuo leapt out of the ground in a puff of smoke, diving down with his kunai, as Itachi turned, his eyes spinning red, the tomoes glinting in the darkness.

_ The Sharingan!  _ He quickly shut his eyes to block out the influence, taking steady breaths to focus his senses. The sound of the brushing of feet, the briefest intake of breath- Mitsuo opened his eyes and launched to the side, narrowly avoiding the plume of fire that was sent his way.

Landing on his feet,he repeated his clone Jutsu, surrounding Itachi with a circle of Mitsuo’s. It was obvious which one of them was the real one, even without the Sharingan- there was only one Mitsuo that wasn’t corporeal. _Rat. Rabbit. Dog._

_ “Wind Style: Shinkūgyoku!” _

Each one of Mitsuo took in a deep breath, before exhaling just as quickly, sending 8 large orbs of wind chakra towards Itachi, who watched, tomoe spinning. With grace and poise that only Itachi possessed, he avoided each and everyone, even the additional chakra-infused shuriken that went flying his way.

His responses were inhuman, and once again, the Sharingan was an annoying ability. Still, it could be tricked. Itachi closed his eyes, and they reverted back to his normal black ones, and Mitsuo realised the fight was over. Sheathing his kunai, he walked over to Itachi, bowing in respect. The slightly-younger boy repeated the same back, and they joint hands, shaking.

“I like what you did with the clone and henge.”

Itachi complimented bluntly, as they began to head back to the Uchiha Compound. Mitsuo nodded, reflecting on their spar, and what he could use to improve. _I need some more versatile Jutsu. What I’m getting taught at the minute… I only have a few wind style Jutsu. I’d like to learn more… I’ll raid the library later, pick Naruto up a few books too._

_ “ _ I like your eyes.”

_ That  _ came out flirtier then he intended, and both boys were blushing heavily on the way home, walking in companionable silence. And for once, the stares of the villagers didn’t bother him, running off of his back without any hardship.

* * *

“ _Onīsan!”_

There was the twin chorus of both Naruto and Sasuke as the respective brother of each walked in, getting attacked by their sibling. Laughing, Mitsuo picked up his brother, as Itachi simply ruffled Sasuke’s hair, as the small child looked up adoringly at his big brother. Sasuke had so many striking resemblances to Itachi that it was reminding Mitsuo of his own resemblance to Minato, and consequently, Naruto.

Although shorter, Sasuke’s hair was the same inky grey, his eyes the same black. While Itachi’s eyes were more serious, Sasuke’s eyes were honest and curious, full of pride for his younger brother. Off to the right, there was a more defined fringe, hanging even lower then Itachi’s. He wore a similar shirt with a high collar, except Sasuke’s was a more grey-blue, bringing out his eyes. It was easy to see that to Sasuke, Itachi was the entire world.

“Manners, Sasuke.”

Itachi, seemingly reluctantly admonished Sasuke. _Is the clan standards really that high that they trained a five-year-old to have perfect manners?_ Still, he dare not criticise the Uchiha’s in their own home- that was not only disrespectful but could possibly lose his brother, and himself, a friend. Not that Itachi would let his father tell him who he could and could not talk to.

Mitsuo hadn't quite realised how much he'd missed having one of those.

He dipped his head in apology, before he swivelled, focusing on Mitsuo, who set Naruto down, straightening up the toy hitai-ate around his head. It had slipped lose so it was covering his right eye, causing Mitsuo snicker. Attached to his trouser pocket was the makeshift toy kunai Mitsuo had made- the real one, their father’s one, was sealed away in a storage scroll, always kept on Mitsuo. Meanwhile, Sasuke went into a low and respectful bow fluidly, and Mitsuo was reminded of a model soldier- always obeying orders without mistake.

“Hello, Uzumaki-san.”

Mitsuo crouched down, placing his hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, making a face at the title. He mock-whispered in Sasuke’s ear, a devilish grin on his face as he did so. _Nothing like a little bit of undermining… plus, I prefer this, so I can’t say I’m encouraging bad behaviour._ The justification was a little weak and granted he wasn’t the son of a clan head, but he didn’t want to be treated with such honorifics when he was just Mitsuo. All the honorifics just made him feel… odd.

“When your parents aren’t around, Sasuke-kun, just call me Mitsuo.”

“ _Hai_ Mitsuo.”

The grin on Sasuke’s face was worth it, and as he looked between Sasuke and Naruto’s conspiring looks, he could tell they were going to be friends for a long time. _Good._ Itachi and Mitsuo had a conversation between their eyes that contained a lengthy conversation.

_ They’re getting on well. _

_ Yes. _

_ It’s nice to see Sasuke relax a little and be a kid. _

_ I think we both know what happens if a child doesn’t get to be a child. _

_ We can give them this. _

_ Yes, we can. _

Soon after, Mikoto entered, and using his manners, Mitsuo entered a bow, greeting the clan matriarch. Was it bad he was a little thankful Fugaku wasn’t there? He also felt like he was being analysed from within his soul when he was around. It made shivers go down his spine- shivers that would be obvious had he not suppressed them. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that he disliked about the patriarch- whatever it was, he didn’t get it around any other Uchiha.

“Greetings, Mikoto-sama.”

She waved it off but greeted him with the same courtesy, Mikoto’s warm demeanour a refreshing change for once. Another thing Naruto lacked was any real female company- nobody would hold him or go near him, would refer to say horrible things to him. Mikoto held no such qualms, as she smiled at Naruto who was talking animatedly with Sasuke.

“And you, Mitsuo-kun. Please, just call me Mikoto.”

“Then just call me Mitsuo, please. Did Naruto behave?”

She smiled at him reassuringly, and Mitsuo sighed a subtle sigh of relief. He’d always worried about how Naruto would be around others: whether the stares, jeers, and isolation from Konoha’s would drive him into the isolation which Mitsuo had been in. But judging by how he reacted warmly to both Dog, Mikoto, Itachi and Sasuke, he didn’t have anything to worry about.

His brother’s warm and kindly nature overpowered the stares and glares he’d been receiving since a kid. The hatred they’d been faced with since the Kyūbi. _That’s good. Maybe one of the Yondaime’s sons has hope yet._

“Mitsuo. Can I play with Sasuke some more?”

He shuffled from foot to foot, somewhat awkwardly. _I don’t know… I need to make our food for dinner tonight and make Naruto his lunch for tomorrow._ Mikoto clasped her hands together, a gentle smile on her face, as Naruto practically clung to Sasuke.

“We can let the boys play- you must stay for dinner.”

Mitsuo continued shuffling from foot to foot, staring down at Naruto who looked like he was about to cry. _I guess it’s rude to decline, and I don’t want to say no when she’s treated us so well._ Everybody’s eyes in the room were focusing on him, silently coercing him into agreeing. Even Itachi, stoic as ever, nudged him, and they conveyed another conversation between their eyes, black eyes meeting bright blue.

_ Just accept it, Mitsuo. You’ll be doing her a favour. _

_ How so, Itachi? Besides, I don’t want us to be a nuisance. _

_ You’ll be giving her a way to, in part, reconnect with her long-dead friend. _

_ Blunt. _

_ Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t want to stay. It’ll be good for Naruto and Sasuke. Father will not be here. _

_ ….fine. _

He pressed his hands together and bowed again, graciousness being shown if not in his actions, then in his eyes. Mitsuo cleared his throat as he turned away from Itachi, instead facing Mikoto once again.

“That would be great, Mikoto. Thank you.”

Naruto grinning widely was definitely worth it, as the two boys darted off into Sasuke’s room, feet loud and thumping. His eyes followed after them before returning to Mikoto, who had a knowing expression on her face. _Hm?_

“Why don’t you two go and talk some more. I will call you when dinner is ready.”

“ _Hai Haha._ Come on, Mitsuo.”

He let himself be dragged off, finding something refreshing in Itachi’s behaviour and kin-like nature. _I guess this is what it’s like to have a friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you saw this coming from a mile away... I must be getting predictable.
> 
> Still, I hope you don't mind all the time skips- I usually try to imply the amount of time that passed, and most things that are skipped over- such as Mitsuo's Chunin Exam and training- get mentioned in more detail later.
> 
> Trust me, we'd be here a long time with a lot of filler if I went through every day of his life. But we'll settle down date wise soon, it's just as Naruto's hitting academy age that everything is higgeldy-piggeldy.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Nothing Has Really Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Y’know, people used to ask me why I trusted Naruto with so much, so young. Some even told me I was cruel telling him about the fox inside us from when he was old enough to understand. But they weren’t in my position- and he was going to want to know why we were treated so differently. He wanted to know why Itachi and Sasuke didn’t care about who we were. He wanted to know what the Uchiha clan was, and what our clan was. And I wasn’t going to be the one to lie to him about our heritage, nor was I going to lie about the Uchiha’s.”

Naruto liked Sasuke. A _lot._ He was different, ya know? Sasuke would play ninja with him, like he'd seen all the other children do. And, he wouldn't call Naruto or Mitsuo mean names or hurt them! He didn't understand why the others did that… he'd never done anything bad to him, and he doubted Mitsuo did either. Mitsuo didn't do that kind of thing- he was a nice and kind big brother. He picked Naruto up when he fell, was always looking after him.

He protected Naruto from the villagers when they wanted to hurt him. Mitsuo was the _best_ big brother, and Naruto wanted to be just like him when he grew up! A powerful ninja! He wanted everyone to appreciate Mitsuo for who he was, and he wanted to be treated like a normal kid. Sasuke understood what it was like to be watched. People watched him because of Itachi. He didn't like that very much.

Naruto didn't want that either- he just wanted to go out without having rocks thrown at him. It would be nice, ya know? But like he said, people just didn't seem to treat him and Mitsuo like actual people. And Mitsuo was a chūnin. That's like… a really powerful ninja. He wasn't asking to be treated like a God or anything… jut normal. Was he so wrong in asking that?

Naruto noticed a lot of things about Mitsuo that his older brother didn't seem to realise. He knew about the nightmares his _Onīsan_ had. It woke him up a lot, and he could hear his brother's soft cries. Mitsuo had gotten quieter, but Naruto's hearing had gotten sharper. It was something that had never been talked about before. He seemed to think that Naruto was unaware of his inability to sleep.

That the shadows under his eyes weren't obvious, and the feat of appearing food- previously attributed to "magic" which Naruto was too old to believe now-was attributed to Mitsuo. He wanted to help his big brother because his big brother helped Naruto a lot and Naruto couldn't help him. So, he tried to be a good boy. He always did what Mitsuo asked of him, which wasn't much. And he never once complained, even when Mitsuo said no to ramen.

...

Okay, so maybe that was a lie. He didn't complain _much_ when it came to ramen. It was ramen! The bestest food in the world! Even the one with the vegetables… blegh. His face screwed up thinking about it. Naruto was good at hiding things. He was small, and could get to places Mitsuo couldn't reach. Dog was good at finding those places. They talked there. Not much, because Dog was busy and had better things to do then talk to Naruto, but they talked. Dog helped Naruto with the apartment, and with his brother.

Mitsuo did a lot of things for Naruto, but Naruto couldn't do much for him. Dog helped him with that. Dog left scrolls that Naruto couldn't make sense of, despite practising his words: both reading and writing, but Mitsuo seemed to understand it. He'd always practised them the next day, getting them really quickly. They were so _cool._ Especially the big fire one- which was very hot, but very cool to look at.

The wall was pretty cool too, even if it scared Naruto a little because it looked ready to squish him. Naruto didn't want to be squished.

His brother seemed happier when he was around Itachi, which was good. Naruto had a Sasuke, and Sasuke made him happy. Sasuke didn't treat him any differently even if he was quiet, and his _Okāsan_ was nice too. It made him think of his own _Haha_ , and how he'd never met her, but it was okay, because he could deal with it. Mitsuo did after all, and he had to be Naruto's only family.

Mitsuo had an Itachi, which was more company then his brother had ever. So that was a good thing, ya know? Even when Mitsuo came home in more bruises than usual, he seemed to have fun, and he smiled a lot more. Naruto decided he liked his brother's smile, when it was wide and genuine, and not that small one he wore when Naruto was around. He could deal with his brother's sadness, but he didn't want _Mitsuo_ to deal with it.

They sat, cross-legged, in Sasuke's room, which was simple in design, kinda like Naruto's. It had one bed, tucked away in the corner, and one bedside cabinet, made of fine wood. Sasuke's covers were just plain black, with no designs, and one smooth and continuous bit of fabric. The one in their apartment was pretty much a patchwork of old sheets that his brother had sewn together, seams neat and crossed.

The lights were bright, illuminating all corners of the room, whereas in his room, they could barely light up the centre. Sasuke nudged him, as Naruto looked at him inquisitively. Black eyes met his own, as he shifted his weight onto his hands, which were positioned behind him.

"Why is your brother so sad?"

Naruto watched Sasuke carefully, his face short and pinched. He didn't really have an answer to that. _Maybe he misses Mom and Dad? I know he loved them a lot before they went away. I know I'm sad about that, and a lot of things, but it gets better- there are always better things to make the bad things go away._

_We lost Mom and Dad but at least I'm not alone: we have Mikoto, Sasuke, Itachi. I have big brother Mitsuo._ He looked at Sasuke with an air of confidence, eyes older than he felt. Then he acted.

"I think he misses Mom and Dad. He's lonely."

Sasuke nodded like it made all the sense in the world. No doubt he was thinking of his own parents. Though he and Mitsuo both took after their parents, they weren't allowed to take their Dad's name. Mitsuo had explained it to him once when he'd asked why they took their Mom's name, Uzumaki. A name didn't have that much power did it?

_Dad had a lot of enemies Naru. People who wanted him hurt. And even though he died, people might want revenge. Plus, we hold the Kyūbi in us, and they want it. So, we can't let them know that the Fourth Hokage had surviving children._

_We must remain anonymous, blind of our true birth._

What Naruto didn't get was that Mitsuo had been born before Naruto, so surely, they knew of his relation to their dad?

_It was a secret kept in Konoha. Even if it got out, which it very well might have, Namikaze Mitsuo died in the Kyūbi's attack Naruto. He's no more, a relic of the past._ He'd paused, before muttering something soft and quiet under his breath that Naruto had barely caught. _That's more literal then it's supposed to be._

"That makes sense. I'd miss my family a lot too."

Naruto took a deep breath, placing his hand on his own knee and adjusting his position again, staring at Sasuke's eyes, trying to read what he was thinking as he tucked his hair out of his face. Naruto told Mitsuo lots of things, but Mitsuo had nobody to tell. Dog didn't talk, and Naruto didn't think Itachi would be able to really relate much. Mitsuo wouldn't want to tell him about their problems either.

"He's not had a birthday in a long time…"

He mentioned briefly, thinking about his own. Mitsuo always did his best so that it was really good, but Naruto struggled to plan things for Mitsuo. He never seemed bothered. Naruto knew when it was though… maybe Sasuke and Itachi would help him organise it? It was coming up soon, and that would make him happy, right?

"I think we can help you."

Sasuke agreed confidently, and Naruto smiled. This year was going to be a good year, and Mitsuo would be happy. And that meant the world to Naruto, because Mitsuo was the bestest big brother, and he deserved more then what the villagers did. They both did.

* * *

_Mitsuo's POV_

Naruto and Sasuke were conniving, Mitsuo knew that much. Naruto only wore that cheeky grin when he was up to something- the last time he'd worn that expression, a matter of weeks ago, the boy decided to throw his covers onto the ground and make a "tent." And wake Mitsuo up at three in the morning to join him, eating bread and jam.

He'd been grumpy that morning. So, Mitsuo was curious at what his small sibling was up to. Though Sasuke had a similar expression, it was more well-hidden, the Uchiha looking much older than five. He had a stoic attitude to him, and Mitsuo felt the oddest urge to refer to the kid as sir. Well, maybe not quite that, but Sasuke looked oddly mature, echoing the authority that Itachi held over the population of Konoha.

When it came to heading home, he had to pry Naruto away from Sasuke's room, sorely tempted to put the boy in a genjutsu so he'd just _go home._ Of course, he'd never do that, but he entertained himself with the thought anyway. And somehow, with Itachi away on business for a couple of hours, he'd been coerced into demonstrating some simple Jutsu for the boys. He took all the precautions- a fair distance away, nothing overly powerful.

He'd put up a barrier if there was one that he could do, but since that wasn't an option, he'd just overly spaced the distance out, sticking to low damage, not far travelling, Jutsu. Naruto was sitting next to Sasuke, one boy actively jumping about with excitement, and the other still and calm. No prizes for guessing who was who.

He'd gotten a little better with the Hiraishin as of late, able to move a short distance once or twice in quick succession. Nothing long distance and he could only move himself, but if something happened he'd be able to teleport in front of the boys and dispel the Jutsu.

"Is there anything you want to see in particular?"

His fingers itched, an irritating feeling. The sun was beating down mercilessly, unusually warm for Konoha. It was good for those who wanted to practise their endurance, and management of resources when it came to such extreme weather, but it was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that their clothes would dry quicker then they usually wood, hung outside on a rickety old bit of fishing wire that had been carefully attached from window-frame to window-frame.

That meant there was little danger of running out of clothes or anything like that. It wasn't an uncommon problem when you only had a couple of sets to your name. Another blessing was that there was much less need for blankets, and what little indoor heating they had. The summers were warm, but the winters were cold: there were no prizes to guess what was easier to deal with. There were plenty of curses to the warm weather, however.

The hotter it was, the more people were out: and the grumpier they were. Again, he wasn't about to explain why that was a bad thing. Food went off faster, irritating, but manageable. He could do less training because it was easier for him to become exhausted, and they tended to be cooped up inside more than usual because of the increased number of people about. Naruto looked at Sasuke as they conferred between the two of them, words hushed and quick, Sasuke already having some idea of subterfuge it seemed.

"The air sphere one?"

"Vacuum Sphere. Shinkūgyoku."

Sasuke corrected shortly, and Naruto nodded. _I could have guessed it easily enough, considering there's a big lack of wind style jutsu available for me to learn. Well, not without me learning tessenjutsu, which I don't like. Too big and bulky for my tastes._

Mitsuo nodded, watching as Naruto tried but failed to imitate Sasuke's still behaviour. Sitting still just wasn't in his character, Naruto always had something to do, couldn't sit still. It was just the way he was, and there was no changing it.

"Give me a moment."

He ran over to the other side of the training grounds, calling his chakra forth in a smooth way. His hands snapped to the centre of his chest as he thought about the hand gestures, using it to focus his chakra into doing what he wanted to do. As he went to call the Jutsu out, about to start the long string of gestures, he saw a group of two, flanking Naruto and Sasuke, hitai-ates shining on their face.

The buckle reflecting the sun, their knuckles curled, looking like they were about to throw the first punch. Sasuke was standing up in front of Naruto, the boy doing an accurate representation of what he dubbed the ' _I'm angry but I show it with a narrow expression'_ on his face, something Itachi wore a lot. Instead of dispelling his chakra, he instead shifted gears, or rather, jutsu.

_Guess you guys are going to have to wait for a vacuum sphere Jutsu._ He'd already started running back, at his quickest speed, going through the hand seals on autopilot. Clone Seal. Ram. Bird.

_"Wind Style: Fūton Bunshin."_

He called out quietly, his four clones flanking him, mimicking his run. Infusing his feet with chakra, he leapt, landing just in front of Sasuke, hands in front of his chest, pointed at the ceiling. The other clones mimicked him, landing by his side, mirrors of him in all but solidness. The Kyūbi curled and writhed in his chest, ever present, ever wanting out, but as usual, he kept it pushed down, chained within him.

He _was_ angry though, anger like ice running through his veins, threatening to control him. He kept it hidden behind a barely normal smile, cold and _hungry,_ his form rigid and almost aggressive, making a wall between the four year old Naruto and the five year old Sasuke, and the two _eleven year old_ genin.

He wouldn't hurt them… much. Although he was chosen to be ANBU, he wasn't eager to hurt those who were supposed to be allies. It was tempting, sure, but he refused to stoop to their level.

"What kind of self-respecting genin are you that you're willing to threaten two under-fives?"

Sasuke was already five, not that they needed to know that. They looked between one another, all of a sudden less confident now that there was a chūnin in front of them. There had been a reason he and Itachi had been recommended for ANBU, and it wasn't because they sat on their asses the entire time. Killing intent spilled out beneath Mitsuo, angled directly towards the two genin, something he'd practised channelling for his own use when they wanted to be left alone.

Of course, it wasn't as concentrated as what he was doing now, but it still tended to make people avoid them, and less eager to attack them. He couldn't always protect Naruto, especially as he got more missions, but he could make them think twice.

"It was because of you two _demons_ that I lost my grandfather!"

One of the two snarled, sounding like a mouse compared to the snarls he heard in his dreams. There was the briefest whimper from Naruto, and he reigned it in, not taking his eyes away from the two genin. He twirled the kunai in his hands, spinning it and flashing the point at them, showing how sharp it was compared to the likely blunt ones they had. The ones for _training,_ not to _kill._ He had no intention of hurting them, but they didn't know that.

"Tell me. If a kunai killed your grandfather, would you blame the shinobi who wielded it or the kunai?"

"The shinobi who wielded it, _obviously."_

The way he spoke was as if he thought Mitsuo was slow in the head. They looked unsettled, but one seemed more overconfident then the other. With a cocky and faux way of thinking, as if he were the best shinobi that ever existed. Overconfidence led to mistakes, and those mistakes could lead to people dying.

"I'm glad it's such a simple answer for you. With the same line of thinking, the Kyūbi was the one who killed your grandfather. Not us: we're just the ones who keep it at bay."

Now, it only went to show that the Third's law had been ineffective, because following his ban, these genin shouldn't know of the Kyūbi- shouldn't know of Mitsuo and Naruto's status of Jinchūriki. But the Third couldn't control speech, couldn't control what the parents said to their children, and in the end, they had a list of enemies that ranged longer then Mitsuo could ever know.

The snarl that overcame the boy's face was quick and heated. He bared his teeth like an angry predator, showing his claws, lurching towards Mitsuo and his clones. He could see the movements like they were staggered, and the boy wasn't thinking. His form was sloppy, his hold on the blunted kunai weak. He'd been fine challenging two little kids, but a recommended ANBU?

Not so much. Normally, he would have slid to the side, but that would leave Naruto and Sasuke open for an attack. The boy didn't seem to care about his friend, and seemed to have some degree of self-preservation. Still, Mitsuo was on edge, so he stepped forward, allowing his clones to fold in behind him. Placing his kunai between both hands, he blocked the strike with ease, not tensing or even having to brace for the attack.

Sweeping his legs out from under him caused him to hit the ground roughly, his form uneven. _Had he been in the correct stance with his weight balanced, he wouldn't have fallen when I did that. Stagger, maybe, but he wouldn't have fallen._ Mitsuo adjusted his grip, before standing over the boy, his face slipping back into a calm mask, reigning in his killing intent with a practised poise.

"Shinobi who hurt those unable to defend themselves are nothing worse than scum. Maybe think about that the next time you bully kids just because of what they hold within them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It explains a little more of his backstory- though admittedly not much, and we get some action.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for all the reviews!
> 
> ~Cait


	8. Chakra Flares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The day Naruto lost his friendly nature was the day I failed as a brother. It was his behaviour I wanted to protect to the best of my ability, and while I couldn’t make the bullying go away, I could do my best to protect him until he was able to defend himself. Maybe even after that. Because I was never one to let my brother fend for myself, and I’d be damned if he suffered any more then he had.”

Naruto was jumpier and more withdrawn since that event. If someone so much as brushed past him, he’d jump away, recoiling into Mitsuo’s side. The mere sound of the rustling of someone’s pockets made him tense and alert, ready to sprint away. He’d been keeping tabs on Sasuke via Itachi, but apparently he was unphased. Outwardly, anyway. He remained the same, seemingly showing no changes in behaviour. Still, Itachi promised to keep an eye out.

Apparently, Itachi wasn’t the only Uchiha keeping an eye on Naruto and Sasuke- if a certain other ANBU Uchiha was anything to go by. The chakra signature was recognisable to him- as one of his many guards. Uchiha chakra had a distinct feeling to it, and though Mitsuo couldn’t discern his identity- he was fairly certain he’d never come across the ANBU casually- he was curious whether it was a direct relative of Itachi’s.

He was sat in their apartment, the windows thrown open, teaching Naruto some basic recipes for him to cook, in case he wasn’t around for a while. Sometimes it was unavoidable, and he couldn’t rely on the Uchiha’s or Dog to look after him. At the end of the day, while Naruto was by no means a burden, he wasn’t their blood, it wasn’t their responsibility to look after him. He poked him experimentally in the side, feeling a little bad when he fought his urge to recoil.

“Yes Mitsu?”

The voice was quiet, the polar opposite to his normally joyful and bubbly behaviour. _He needs to tell me about what is eating him… whether it’s seeing me the way I was, the “chūnin me” and not “big brother” me, or whether it’s the would-be attack in general._ He stretched over to the pot, currently containing the base for ramen, and turned off the heat, reducing the chance of burning the house down. He took it off the stove and stepped down, Naruto tilting his head curiously.

Shinobi culture was big on the “deal with it yourself approach”, and Mitsuo was all too aware of that: but he didn’t want his brother to deal with it alone. _One_ Uzumaki with repressed trauma was bad enough, Naruto’s attitude didn’t need it too.

“Come on, _Otōto._ I think we need to talk.”

Naruto obediently followed, perhaps realising that Mitsuo wasn’t about to let him dodge the conversation. Not that he was really able to, considering he was four years old and couldn’t jump out and run along the roofs of the village. Mitsuo sat down in what they called their living room, cross-legged on the floor, staring at Naruto who sat a little distance away, big blue eyes staring at Mitsuo, lips downturned, bottom lip quivering.

There was a brief thought of placing his hand on Naruto’s shoulder, but he thought twice and fought against the instinct, knowing that it would unsettle his brother. _I’m no therapist… what on earth do I say to him…?_

“What did you think about the other day?”

“I had fun with Sasuke. Your jutsu was cool.”

He answered, completely dodging the question. Well, either that, or his brother was being dense again. It wasn’t surprising either way, because for a kid who was bubbly and happy 99% of the time, he was skilful at dodging certain lines of questioning. _Is that something I’ve influenced him with?_ Mitsuo looked at his brother with the look that was dubbed “ _I know you’re skirting around what I want to know.”_

“I’m glad you think so, but you know that’s not what I’m asking about.”

Mitsuo was expecting a variety of answers. Some not really answers, and more of a diversion. Naruto adjusted his position awkwardly on the floor, his hands splayed out behind him, his toy hitai-ate curled up in between his grip. He didn’t force his brother to tell him, just waiting, the silence of the room weighing heavily upon the two of them. Most households were filled with the joy of relatives, the laughing of a mother or father, perhaps the barks or mews of a pet. But in their house, it was just the two of them, and when Naruto was down in the dumps or asleep, silence was the only thing in the house.

“Why did they try to hurt us?”

Mitsuo’s eyes narrowed a little, before he tilted his head. _Naruto knows why we’re always hunted. I told him a while ago now. The fox in our stomachs. The Demon Fox that attacked the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Plus, the kid said himself, he felt like we killed his grandfather, despite the fact that we aren’t the Fox._ He gestured to his stomach, his shirt covering the area, but the seal always there, ever present.

“Because of the Fox.”

He shook his head, shifting position, hugging himself. _So that’s not what he meant. What does he mean then?_ Mitsuo thought to himself, as Naruto nibbled on his lip like a mouse. He was almost as quiet as one, and for Naruto, that was concerning. Naruto went quiet, an eerie state for his brother, before he decided to speak again, elaborating this time.

“I know they hate the Fox. But why _us._ What did we _do?”_

Mitsuo sighed, looking away for a minute. A question that was simple to answer in theory, but not easy to understand. How was he supposed to explain that they hadn’t done _anything,_ but that the villagers connected their lives with the Kyūbi's… It had sprung to mind once or twice to take Naruto out of Konoha, for him to become a Missing-Nin once he had enough skills to live in the wild.

But that came with its own problems. It was a harsh world out there, and it wasn’t fair for Naruto to live in the wild like a wild animal. _Although, treated like devil spawn isn’t fair either._ Mitsuo was no match for Tracker-Nin either, and while it was unlikely they would physically hurt Naruto, he wouldn’t be surprised if they brainwashed him almost into thinking that he was evil.

That was also ignoring the fact that they could possibly get hunted because of their status as Jinchūriki, for those who want to harness the Kyūbi's power like the Masked Man did five years ago. His only real option was stay in Konoha, protected by the walls, the ANBU, and the Hokage, where Naruto could get as close to an education as he could get, and as few friends as he could acquire. Naruto’s natural charisma meant nothing when everyone was determined to hate him.

“They are driven by fear, Naruto. Both fear of the Fox, and fear of things they cannot control. They try to hurt us because they think it’s like hurting the Fox, and they want to hurt the Fox because it hurt them.”

“But that’s _unfair._ We didn’t do anything to them! Why won’t they leave us alone?”

It was very much unlike Naruto complain, and he gestured for Naruto to come to his side. He scooted across the floor, and Mitsuo wrapped his arm around Naruto’s back, as his younger brother burrowed his head into Mitsuo’s ribs. He enjoyed the feeling of being close to his brother before giving him a gentle poke in the centre of his head, like their father had done to him when he was a baby.

“They don’t see us for us Naru. They see us as the Fox. We need to give them reason to change their views… but as we are, they are pretty unwilling to change the way they think.”

Naruto pouted from where he was tucked into Mitsuo’s arm, and then proceeded to twist around and turn to look at him, with wide blue eyes, which soon after narrowed in a look of determination that he hadn’t seen from his sibling. With that look… he looked like he could do anything, and Mitsuo didn’t doubt it. Once he set his mind to something, he would accomplish it: regardless of whether it took him hours, months, or even years.

“I’m going to make them change their minds!”

He grinned, sticking his thumb up and bringing it up in front of his face, his own definition of a promise. Smiling at his brother, and squeezing him lightly, he looked at him, placing a small kiss on his head, like a parent would do to a child. _I suppose, in a way, that’s what I am to Naruto. I give him a sense of morals and responsibilities. But I will always be his big brother, not his parents. I couldn’t replace Mom and Dad._

“I believe you Naruto.”

It didn’t stop the flinches though.

* * *

_Focus on the kunai, Mitsuo. The kunai. It’s near Naruto. Not nearby him, but close. Feel the pull… trace it back to the kunai, merge the chakra with the seal… and step._ He felt the kunai tug at his chakra, providing an invisible gateway to go from point A to point B, cutting out the path between the two. Everything almost froze around him, as he let himself be pushed towards the kunai.

The sounds of the forest dulled, the contented hums of Naruto as he played with his stuffed bear became hushed, and for a few seconds, the only chakra signatures he could feel were his own, and that of the seal-laden kunai, which felt like his father’s chakra. It was faint, but the feeling of their father’s chakra, warm and spark-like, calming and soothing, would forever be engrained into him, like many things surrounding his father.

With a sharp tug, almost uncomfortable as he fought the instinct to stop his chakra leaving, he opened his eyes, revealing that he was next to the kunai, still a fair distance away from Naruto. He bent down and picked it up, sheathing it again as he began to analyse the progress that he’d made. _I’m slowly getting better at it…_ He thought as he checked his chakra levels, which while weren’t completely burnt out, were low at the minute.

His chakra reserves were huge, and only growing larger, but due to inefficient management, he burned through it quickly when he was practising.

The training session had only been a couple of hours or so- two, looking at his watch- but he had a mission coming up soon, and couldn’t afford to completely drain his chakra. It was a B ranked mission- something to do with sending an important missive to the Kazekage of Sunagakure- and didn’t sound too hard in theory, but he was aware of not being cocky. Especially considering the short amount of time after the Third Great Ninja War, where relations were still fragile.

Fragile, in the way that ice was fragile. That placing one wrong foot on the ice sends you plummeting into the icy depths of the river.

It was safe to say, that mission was _not_ one he wanted to fuck up, lest he start another war, which Mitsuo was highly against for several reasons.

It was about time they headed home, because Itachi and Sasuke were going to head over for a quiet evening, and Mitsuo was about to call out to Naruto to gather his things. However, he could sense something small, cutting through the air, the chakra flickering around it angrily as it homed in on not Mitsuo, but Naruto, who was blissfully unaware.

He shunshined over quickly, hand wrapping around his kunai as he brought it up to his face, dropping down to a defensive stance and batting away the shuriken with ease. Rage simmered lowly in his gut, partly the fox and partly himself, because _who would attack a five-year-old? Oh wait, Konoha._

“Behind me, Naruto.”

He muttered unamused but angry. Growling, he looked forwards, his sensing abilities reaching far out as he detected a group of five. And he recognised their chakra signatures, though not for good reasons. Behind him, Naruto was shaking, mouth slack-jawed, terrified and unsure. That only served to fuel Mitsuo’s anger: it was difficult to keep Naruto’s hope and self-confidence alive when people were so eager to beat it down.

“I know you are there, Kasuhiro.”

It took a lot to keep his voice calm and straight. Narrowed, without the hints of anger that he was feeling. It took every single bit of training he had to keep his anger beaten down, because anger made people careless. The boy in question was another chūnin, a couple of years older than Mitsuo and Itachi. He was the kind of kid who looked to make friends with those he deemed “strong” and was seriously affronted when he wasn’t given his own way.

Case in point, he’d harassed Itachi for a long time after he graduated, eager to become friends with one of the strongest shinobi to ever pass. Mitsuo himself was excluded from _that_ honour, thanks to his status as “Jinchūriki” or the more often used, “Demon Fox”. _Silver linings._ Of course, when Itachi had chosen to become a friend to Mitsuo, Kasuhiro was mortally offended, and often looked to try and remove Mitsuo out of the picture.

_As if Itachi would ever change his mind about his relationship with you._ Itachi _abhorred_ the boy as much as Mitsuo did. Of course, Kasuhiro was also a manipulative leader, able to bend people’s will almost, to make them do what _he_ wanted them to do. While he wasn’t favoured amongst the chūnin, he had plenty of people who were willing to follow him, mostly genin.

They didn’t know better, and while Mitsuo couldn’t claim to know what they were thinking, he reckoned that some of it was to do with _“powerful chūnin, he’ll teach me some stuff.”_ Kasuhiro appeared a short distance away from the two brothers, eyes narrowed, flanked by four others, who Mitsuo recognised as genin. He didn’t want this to turn into a fight, but he’d do anything to protect his brother. _Anything._

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He seemed surprised at Mitsuo’s calmness, not shocked or intimidated by his group. Kasuhiro could never be intimidating, and he was predictable. Never one to finish a task himself, he’d always have a group of lackeys to help him. He narrowed his eyes at Mitsuo, form rigid, hands tensed by his side.

_Kasuhiro has a fire nature. I need to be wary of him if we get into a fight, which is likely. The others are unknown: I know they are genin, but other than that, I know nothing other than the fact that they do not belong to a major clan. That should reduce the chances of me running into a Kekkei Genkai._

There was a reason, besides his copious amounts of studying, why Mitsuo was such a talented and dangerous ninja. It had nothing to do with his heritage, and very little to do with the Kyūbi: his analytical skills were unheralded. His analysing was incredibly accurate for one without a dōjutsu, and he was able to judge and predict a situation to an uncanny degree of accuracy.

“I’ve been on a mission for a while. A few months, in fact. Imagine my surprise, _Yako,_ when I find out that my little brother, was assaulted by _you._ As you can imagine, I was not very happy.”

He hated the word _Yako._ It was something that few called him, but it didn’t make him hate it any less. It was a slur, somehow more wounding, at least to him, then just demon or fox. The Yako was a demon fox, just like the Kyūbi, known for being malevolent and evil. It was around during the Sage of Six Path’s time, and was rumoured to either be the Kyūbi, or something in close relation.

The same Yako was notably responsible for the destruction of a village- another parallel to the Kyūbi- and several thousand other rumoured crimes. It was easy to see _why_ Mitsuo hated being called it: he already had the Fox in him and was reminded of it every single day: they didn’t need to take his name away from him as well. Still, Mitsuo knew what he was talking about: way back before October, before Naruto’s fifth birthday, where those two boys had attacked Naruto and Sasuke, and he’d intervened.

“They attacked my brother. And Itachi’s. I did as my right said and defended them both. I did not initiate the fight.”

“And they’ll be punished for attacking Itachi-sama’s otōto-san.”

The high-praising honorific for Itachi didn’t go unnoticed, almost ringing sharply out. The lack of mention of Naruto when talking about “punishment” didn’t go unnoticed either. They were here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have a friendly conversation.

_I need to get Naruto out of here… but I can’t. There’s no way for me to get him out of here if they choose to fight. I’m going to have to protect him, by making them focus on me, and never stray too far away from him._ Mitsuo crossed his arms, his face still neutral, carefully controlled as to not let anything slip, his back still facing Naruto.

Mitsuo was let down by his stamina. As quick as he may be, and as large as reserves as he had, he couldn’t exceed his body’s strength. It was something he was going to grow into, and while Naruto was light enough for Mitsuo carry him, and Mitsuo being fairly quick, they’d easily be caught up to at this point. He could flee for the village and hope someone would help- but well, they would be more likely to turn a blind eye.

“Had they not harassed _Naruto_ or Sasuke, I would have had no reason to fight them.”

Not that it was much of a fight. There were no serious wounds, and the only injury that was inflicted was that of some damaged pride. Mitsuo had done them a favour in reducing that pride in the end. It didn’t look like Kasuhiro was content to accept that there had been reason for what he did, and that didn’t surprise him either. He was merely looking for an excuse to challenge Mitsuo to a fight, one that allowed him to go all out and cause serious harm.

No matter what he said, this was going to turn into a fight, and there was no talking them out of it. Beside him, his hand coiled, grasping on the worn handle of the kunai that had served him thus far. _My chances against the five of them are equal. I don’t know what Jutsu they know, and I have a slight disadvantage against Kasuhiro thanks to our chakra nature._

Chakra natures didn’t mean everything in a fight, but it could make just enough of a difference fight wise,

_I can take on this group, it’s no more difficult than the missions I’ve taken on before, but by carrying Naruto, I impede my agility. But by leaving him, I leave him wide open for an attack. I don’t doubt that if I leave him to sit someone will target him: after all, he’s a “demon” not a child. He’s nothing to them. If I leave a wind clone, it might protect him a little bit, but wouldn’t take much to be defeated._

_But it could hold them off long enough for me to get to him. It would take a lot of my chakra though: not that I have much left thanks to my practise of the Hiraishin. Enough to fight, certainly, and enough that I won’t burn it out immediately, but enough that I must be conservative of the amount I use._

_“I think you two demons need to be taught your place.”_

Kasuhiro grinned, leering like the cat who got the canary. He gestured forwards lazily, and his goons sprung forward, shuriken outstretched, fingers outstretched in a clumsy preparation to do a Jutsu. Mitsuo met them head-on, trying to counter them before they got to Naruto: and _nothing_ was going to stop him from protecting his brother. He’d rather _die_ before his brother got hurt- and that was his _Nindō_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	9. The Fox Breaks Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The first time I weakened the Kyūbi’s seal, I remember clearly. I hadn’t even been aware of what was happening: all I knew was that we had been captured, and my brother was being beaten by boys, most of them genin, but one chūnin, tortured, and jeered at. I had been pinned, entombed in a water-like prison, and I couldn’t move while my brother was being hurt. Burning hot anger overwhelmed me, anger that leached off me in waves, eating at me. My thoughts became narrow-minded, focusing only on my brother and how to get to him. Thinking back, those boys were lucky I had learnt how to contain my anger to some degree- had I not, they wouldn’t have gone home. Do you know what Naruto said to me when I woke upon the floor, half lucid, his head on my chest, tears in his eyes, and my chakra depleted? “It’s alright, Mitsu. I don’t expect you to be perfect. Nobody can be.”

Mitsuo jumped in first, landing the first attack, trying to protect his brother above all else. That was all that mattered. He ran through the shortened hand-sign that he’d been practising, flexing his chakra to summon six clones, ever-translucent and ever accompanied by the howling of the wind.

_“Wind Style: Fūton Bunshin.”_

They went forwards as Mitsuo stayed back, Naruto’s small form clinging to his side. His chakra flared angrily, in response to his hidden emotions, as he carefully picked Naruto up, the boy staying silently against his side, folding against his shadows. He took a deep breath, as he became accurately aware of everything that was happening around him, his clones fighting, dissipating in a war of slashes, leeching at the skin.

_I need to get Naruto away from here before they get past me._ Pressing his hands together, he made his way through the hand-signs for the latest Jutsu he’d added to his repertoire. _Ox. Snake. Ram. Bird._

_“Wind Style: Nóngwù no Jutsu!”_

The air around them became heavier almost, denser. It was able to be seen by the naked eye, not that Mitsuo hung around to watch. He temporarily got one of his clones to henge themselves into a more solid-looking Mitsuo, as he used the cover to disappear into the woods surrounding the training ground. The henge that was in place by the clones would only last a matter of minutes as the clones were unable to sufficiently meld chakra for long amounts of time without disappearing, but it was only to hide his escape. He placed Naruto down in the grass, in the comfortable shade of the tree, obscured from plain sight, trying to let the trees cover him.

“Naruto. Wait here. Do not move until I come and get you. If they get past me- run. I’ll find you.”

Upon Naruto’s nod, he shunshined back over to the battlefield just as the fog began to thin, and the henge dropping on the wind clone as it dissipated thanks to the lack of chakra. The clones hadn’t been much of a waste, with at least one of the boys unconscious on the rough dirt, the rest looking mildly exhausted, apart from Kasuhiro, who looked unruffled.

Mitsuo was all too aware that Naruto was an easy target, and that it was questionable- rather, highly unlikely- that Naruto could get away. Mitsuo settled down into a defensive stance, taking stock of the battlefield around him.

His chakra reserves were simmering, not quite empty, not quite full, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to pull off some giant jutsu. Not one that would affect a wide group of people anyway. Mitsuo’s reserves were huge, and only growing larger: but practising Hiraishin, he wasn’t the best at chakra control.

Chakra control wasn’t just something he could observe and learn.

“It doesn’t matter where you hide your brother, _Yako_. We’ll find him eventually: it’s not that hard to follow his chakra.”

Kasuhiro barked, as three of the genin surrounded him, throwing a fast flurry of shuriken. He blocked them all with practised ease and poise, moving from a defensive position to an adjusting one as they jumped towards him, each one going through a flurry of the same hand-gestures. But Mitsuo recognised the gestures for what they were: the clone jutsu.

That advanced warning gave him enough time to think of a counter and prepare for the incoming attack. _They don’t work as a team. Or they aren’t used to one another. Each move they make is actively avoiding the other two. I can take advantage of this._

_“_ Bunshin no Jutsu!”

They each summoned one clone, meaning there were six people on the field. _They’ve not thought this through… I know who are real and who the clones are. It’s not much of a distraction if the true person is obvious._ Drawing small shuriken of his own, he threw them out in front of him in a fan-like motion, the attack coordinated.

The three who were real disappeared, leaving the clones to disappear in a puff of smoke, as all three shunshined over to him, attacking from the left, the right, and above. It took him a matter of a few seconds to replace himself with a log, as the three genin crashed into one another, with a series of yells.

“Mako, Haku, Tsuna! Are you _really_ going to let the _Yokai_ get the better of you?”

He taunted, as they quickly straightened themselves out, ready to launch into another fight. He raised his fists defensively, guarding the main areas of his body against the blows, pushing down the Kyūbi's chakra that was far too tempting to give in to **.**

**_If you use my chakra, you can defeat them all with ease. You can protect your younger brother. You can beat these imbeciles with a wave of your hand._ **

The Kyūbi's voice was alluring like it was trying to appeal to his deepest darkest desires. The voice, though kind in appearance, was just as fake as its offer, no more sincere than the boys in front of him. He knew very little about the seal on his gut, other than it was powered by the soul of his father and kept the demon at bay.

To undo the seal was to release the Fox, and to release the Fox meant the death of both himself, his brother, and countless innocents. To destroy the village that his mother and father gave their lives to protect. It was his and Naruto’s burden to bear, the weight of the responsibility that had been given to them.

He blocked a kunai-laden fist by Mako, catching it with his left hand and gripping it tightly. He drew it across his body to block the shuriken thrown by Haku, before bending the wrist back and disarming him, turning to avoid a roundhouse kick that would have struck his head. They all backtracked, giving him ample space as they circled him, each of them staring him down, fire in their eyes.

But it wasn’t the fire of a passionate fight, it was the fire of anger. Raw and unadulterated, hot and white, anger. For people he’d never interacted with before. That Naruto had never interacted with before. They all darted towards him, each one a half-step out of time with another, Mitsuo keeping his fighting style fluid and adaptive.

Out of the corner of his eye, he became aware of Kasuhiro inching towards him, ready to fight yet again. The three on one suddenly became a four on one, and Mitsuo’s eyes were flicking around, his sensory abilities sweeping over the battlefield around him.

**_These worms would never be able to touch you if you simply indulged in using my chakra. It would burn them inside and out, till nothing but ash remained._ **

The images were vivid, the blood surrounding him, strewn corpses around the field. His normally young-looking face, blue eyes with round adoring pupils, his clothes neat and tidy. They were all gone. Red glowing eyes were in their place, normally blond hair sticking up as though electrocuted, arched and angry like a hissing cat. His whiskers more prominent as teeth forked out over his lips, piercing them with an ease reserved for blades. Claw-like hands emerging from the flesh, ready to carve through armour and skin.

The image sent unholy shivers down his spine, and he beat it down with a viciousness unbecoming of him, tempering his chakra back into its cold and collected chakra. _I control the chakra, the chakra doesn’t control me. I choose what it does, it does not choose of its own free will. I control the Fox, the Fox doesn’t control me._

The mantra was one that he’d repeated many times over his training, whenever the Fox’s chakra threatened to overwhelm his, to take control. _Put it in the mould, temper it. It can be what I want it to be and nothing more._

With his concentration narrowed, he saw the attack by Mako coming a few seconds before it did, and effortlessly leaned out of the way, tripping him with a sweep of his leg. Ducking, Kasuhiro’s fist went flying over his head, as Mitsuo quickly substituted himself with a log, narrowly avoiding the three shurikens that landed right where his throat, heart, and right lung would have been.

_Kill shots. This is more than just some stolen honour. They are out for blood._ Dropping from his elevated position, he buried his knees into the back of Mako, his momentum sending the two of them crashing to the ground. Slamming his hands into his chakra points, he knocked him clean out. He was no Hyūga, but he still knew where they were- the primary ones anyway. _Two plus Kasuhiro left. Then I can get back to Naruto._

He used his momentum to throw himself into a cartwheel, narrowly dodging a strike from where he’d been just moments before. He grabbed Haku’s wrist and used it to block Tsuna’s strike, bending it back and pushing Haku in front of him, almost as a human shield. Tsuna’s next punch had no choice but to land in Haku’s stomach, and he pushed the two of them forward, hands flurrying through quick hand gestures.

“ _Earth Style: Doryūheki!”_

He slammed his hands into the ground, feeling his chakra surge up as the earth grabbed around Tsuna and Haku’s feet, getting into every nook and crevice it could. Closing his blue eyes, he could sense Kasuhiro in front of him, and another foreign chakra signature somewhere behind him. Opening his eyes with a dramatic surge of blue, he dropped the mud wall, looking up as he heard a familiar wail of terror.

“Look what I found here!”

Mitsuo’s eyes snapped up, anger filling his body to new levels as he saw Kasuhiro holding Naruto by his scruff, his legs dangling in the air. The seal on his stomach burned with a new intensity as he made to charge towards his brother, but was stopped by the briefest flicker of chakra, which made him turn to dispose of the threat, eyes split between Kasuhiro and Naruto, and the unknown entity behind him.

When he turned, one of his eyes caught with a raven-haired, red-eyed foe, and his gaze was fully enraptured in that of the Uchiha Sharingan, single tomoe, but still plenty powerful.

Though he did not know it yet, those eyes could control a Bijū, perhaps not in this infant stage where the power was still a fledgeling, barely alive, still needing nourishment and training, but once it hit three tomoe, or became a Mangekyō, there was no doubt about it.

As it stands, the single tomoe Sharingan of one Uchiha Taiko, slightly older then Mitsuo and Itachi, about fifteen or sixteen, was enough to make the fox inside him startle to full alert, roaring with enough intensity to shake the bars of his cage, to feel his corrosive chakra eating Mitsuo from the inside out.

Though not powerful enough to control, those red eyes were enough to break the Fox out of his slumber and to make Mitsuo delay just long enough for a double-point water prison to be made by two flanking chūnin, who Mitsuo didn’t know.

Mitsuo pulsed his chakra to try and distort the water prison, to try and calm down the Fox from the rampage inside of him, trying to keep the Fox contained while trying to escape and save his brother. He threw a punch, only for it to be sluggish, the water weighing it down until it was pushing forwards at a snail’s pace. Kasuhiro grinned with bared teeth, dangling Naruto as if he were nothing but a plaything.

With an Uchiha on their side, who was silent and stoic, calculating, well, Mitsuo had certainly made their job of catching him all too easy, by staring into the powerful dōjutsu. A rookie mistake, misjudging his opponents, and now he was facing the price, with a thrashing Fox and the rapidly increasing temperature of the water that scalded his skin.

“Mitsuo!”

He wailed, kicking his legs out, flailing in fear, limbs thumping uselessly against the chūnin’s arms. Mitsuo’s breathing began to quicken as he tried to collect his chakra and use it to burst out of the prison. But it didn’t make a difference, the water prison simply dispelling it naturally. He twisted, seeing another chūnin, one who had joined the battlefield much later, the one who’s chakra he had sensed a mile away.

_He caught up to us so fast. How? Was he always there, just hiding?_ Kasuhiro dangled Naruto temptingly, like a bone before a dog, before tossing him to the ground like trash, Naruto’s knees scuffed red raw as a result.

More and more chakra leaked out of the seal, ruby red, lashing out at the water prison they were contained in, not that Mitsuo noticed. His normal calm demeanour was replaced with white-hot anger, his fists clenched, his jaw set as he tried to escape the prison, wanting to get to his little brother.

“I told you demons had to get their comeuppance, _Yako._ I’ll let you watch as we rid the village of your demon brother, and then rid of you. We will have our ranks raised for doing the village a _service_!”

The Uchiha, Taiko, sneered at Mitsuo, red Sharingan eyes meeting red Kyūbi-like eyes, and they didn’t seem to know when to quit. The mere sight of the Sharingan again made the Fox furious, and Mitsuo could feel his control failing, no matter how much he tried to control his chakra, no matter how hard he tightened his knuckles.

This power was not one he could hold any more, and it was just threatening to burst out, to lash out at everyone around him. No thoughts of Naruto would temper the Fox, no sheer force of will could halt the Kyūbi, It was on a rampage, and a part of Mitsuo was terrified- if it got fully free… there was no Yondaime, no Kushina to seal it again- and if he died, there would be nobody to protect Naruto, nobody to save him from the angry stares of the village. There was no mistake about the meaning of the word Jinchuriki, and if he died, they would find someone else to pass the burden onto; that was no lie.

“And now, you can stop tainting the Uchiha heirs with your _demonic chakra._ They will be the ones to lead Konoha into a new age.”

Kasuhiro drew a sharp blade, hungry for blood, hooked menacingly at the hilt. It drew closer and closer to Naruto’s neck as he scrambled backwards on hands and knees, cowering terrified, calling out for his brother with sobs, hiccups impeding every word. As the blade drew closer and closer to Naruto’s neck, more and more Kyūbi chakra- anger red- leaked out of the seal, the normally invisible seal becoming clear, the black lines, intricately woven, now red, arching out into the skin, tracing his veins, like some kind of poison.

The red chakra surrounded Mitsuo as he took on the demonic features that he had seen in his dreams, in his nightmares. His blue eyes turned blood red, a murderous colour. His pupils slit, black and venomous, cutting through the water cube with superior sight, blazing with the intensity, with the power, of the Fox within him.

The two whiskers that adorned each cheek turned from their usual skin tone to a deep black, looking more like his face had been clawed at. Around each gouge, there was a red outline, as if each whisker was a wound that was sluggishly bleeding, dark red blood dripping down his face.

His eyes were surrounded with shadows, black and wide, enunciating the eerie demonic appearance of his normally crystal coloured eyes. Teeth that were typically blunt sharpened, until they escaped the confines of his mouth, effortlessly cutting through his lips. The overhang only served to highlight how sharp they were, as blood trickled down his mouth, wiped away with the back of a clawed hand.

Mitsuo’s hitai-ate dropped down to cover one eye as his hair gained a mind of its own, growing so it was more mane-like then hair-like. He dropped to all fours as the chakra stopped streaming out of him, instead covering him as if it was a cloak. It covered his hands and feet, forming red paws with lengthy blood-red claws, black pads contrasting with the cloak.

The roar that escaped him was anything but human, and Kasuhiro and Taiko looked at him with some degree of terror, Naruto escaping his attention as Kasuhiro’s grip faltered.

“What in the ever-loving hell is that?”

“I can’t hold-”

The water prison dropped without much fanfare, and cat-like, Mitsuo landed on all fours, chakra like fire flowing through his veins, the translucent tail behind him flicking angrily from side to side. The chūnin froze as Mitsuo turned around, hissing and spitting, lunging forwards in a series of rapid attacks that were difficult to dodge.

Right swing where the claws just barely missed, and then a left kick as he got into a standing position, clawed feet scratching deeply into the unknown chūnin’s shin. Kasuhiro darted towards the possessed Mitsuo, apparently having no self-preservation. What followed was a flurry of strikes from all sides, as Mitsuo weaved in and out of attacks, blocking them with various limbs, his chakra corroding any metal that came near. _Swipe. Blood. Carnage. Fear. Protect. Kin. Blood._

“Let’s get out of here! It’s not worth dying!”

They fled, and instincts lurching, the fox-consumed Mitsuo went running after them, the thrill of the chase flooding through him. The only thing that stopped him was the sobbing Naruto, who was toddling towards him, no fear at all. Weaker prey, easier to hunt, easier to hurt. He stalked forwards, chakra cloak flaring as he reared back onto his hind legs, clawed hands hesitating to swing as realisation dawned in his eyes, _Otōto. My brother. Our brother._

He lowered his hand, the chakra cloak flickering as Mitsuo became more aware of his brother, and as his features slid back to normality, he hit the ground roughly, his limbs limp and uncooperative, his eyes heavy. Naruto crawled forwards, wrapping his scratched arms around Mitsuo’s waist, holding the dead weight to the best of his ability.

“It’s okay, Mitsuo.”

He crooned, acting older than he was, as the Third Hokage and a squad of ANBU, including Itachi, ran to their location, afraid that the Kyūbi escaped one of their human hosts. Naruto cooed into his chest as Mitsuo felt burning, a hollow sensation where the warmth of his chakra had once been. His eyes slid shut just as Itachi, the fastest out of the ANBU, appeared, crouching down next to the limp form of Mitsuo, looking at Naruto from behind his mask.

“I’ve got him. He’s going to be fine.”

On his stomach, the seal remained the same, frozen in contrast to the fire of the Kyūbi. The seal was not so easily broken. Itachi quickly stuck several seals over his chakra points, and Mitsuo felt a trickle of fear, everything frozen in his body as he was forced to watch, completely locked out from his body, paralysed.

With one hand, he cast the hand seals for a genjutsu, staring at Mitsuo. Their eyes met, and behind his mask, Itachi dipped his head, and everything went black. There was no fading, no gentle ease into it- it went dark quickly, and then the numbness remained. _I hope the seal isn’t damaged._ Mitsuo thought to himself with his barely lucid thoughts. _That kind of power… nobody should have it. Especially not me._

The memory of the sheer _hatred_ he had felt while the Kyūbi’s attitude ate at him… well, Mitsuo knew he was going to be having another addition to his nightmares from then on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!


	10. Ashes of the Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I first met the Kyūbi, the Nine-Tailed Beast that was the cause of all my issues and traumas, I was filled with trepidation. In front of me was a being I couldn’t predict, a being who had orphaned both me and my brother. I should have felt a lot of things: anger, sadness, fear. But what I felt was a lot worse: I was indifferent. I was cautious sure, and I was still upset about my parents as any child would be- but the fact I did not run with fear, and was civil? Well, let’s just say that had the villagers figured that out, we would have been persecuted even more.”

Mitsuo opened his eyes in a large open field. There were flowers covering the long and delicate grass, barely visible due to the dense nature of the grass, the surroundings eerily silent. There was no chirping of birds, no faint howling of wolves, and the shrouds of the surrounding forest were looming, cackling from where they were.

The sky was a tumultuous grey, clouds tumbling over themselves as they fought to break out from the grey confines, stormy and rumbling in their anger. The sun, normally bright, was nowhere to be seen, causing a grey hue to cast over the clearing. The air was warm despite the stormy looking weather, the wind coiling and swirling wildly.

Mitsuo didn’t feel any different, and as he looked at his arms and body, he still looked like his eleven-year-old self. His navy jacket draped above his plain blue shirt, which had the Uzumaki swirl on the shoulder. His dark grey trousers, scuffed and marked, looking unworn and unsullied. Reaching up hesitantly to his head, his hitai-ate was resting there, keeping his hair tucked out of the way, which he needed to cut at some point.

It was growing too long, escaping the confines of the hitai-ate more often than not. _I’m still me, as far as I can tell. Am I in a dreamscape or something? This looks like the training field outside of the village, just untamed and abandoned to its own devices._ It didn’t escape his notice how his first assumption when facing something he wasn’t expecting and was almost surreal, was to think it was a dream or a nightmare when there were always other more logical options.

A grey path almost appeared in front of him, oddly, stark and out of place compared to the rest of the clearing, but before he could really think it through, his feet were trailing along the cobbled path. There was a tall gateway, a crimson red gate looking like the respectful entrance to a temple. _What is this?_

He kept walking until a weird visual effect happened, where the corridor stretched, merging into one long tunnel until the path ended, and he was back to where he started. The sky was the same, the forest was the same, the grass weaving in between his toes was the same. The only difference was the giant Fox, slumbering in the centre, head on his giant furry paws.

His fur was jagged, looking course and rough, as Mitsuo’s memories of the tenth of October, five years ago, hit him full force, and it was all too easy to imagine the claws impaling his parents. It unnerved him, but he put on his most stoic expression.

His fists curled by his sides, as he suppressed the churning in his gut, the antsiness that was crawling up his skin just by being so close to the demon in his stomach. He opened a red slitted eye, the other remaining lazily shut as he remained in his relaxed position.

**_“What are you doing here, Brat? You’re disturbing my peace and quiet.”_ **

Oddly, the Kyūbi seemed more civil then Mitsuo thought it’d be. The experience he’d had with it had been limited, and it had been huge, towering over the village, snarling, only speaking a few words which consisted of cursing his father. To see it so _tame:_ it was somewhat jarring- he’d not imagined it twisting in his gut. The Fox’s tails lunged forwards, stopping at the bars, coiling around them.

**_“First off, I am a he, not an it. Second of all, the Kyūbi no Kitsune is not tame!”_ **

Mitsuo raised an eyebrow as he jumped back a little in surprise, instantly taking back what he’d said about it… _him_ being tame. It was weird, downright suicidal, he knew, talking to a fox demon who had nearly wiped out his village, had killed so many people including his mother and father. The Fox’s tails whipped out behind him and even more oddly, Mitsuo found himself wondering what it was like to be split in half.

Clearing his thoughts, he shrugged, feeling small and weak in comparison to the Fox in front of him, which could squash him like a bug. He didn’t necessarily have to refer to the Fox as he, but not only was the Kyūbi more powerful than he was, but he didn’t need to make his life harder because of something as simple as a pronoun. He steamrolled past the would-be attack as his tails coiled back inside of the cage, shrugging again with faux confidence.

“I don’t know. I just woke up here. Aren’t you going to try and break out?"

Mitsuo could swear that he rolled his eyes, and Mitsuo felt somewhat affronted. He could _feel_ the Fox rattling at his cage when he’d been fighting Kasuhiro and his gang, trying to shatter the seal and roam free. The Fox stood up, looming over Mitsuo as he sat on his haunches, his tails spreading out like a fan.

**_“I’m not stupid. The seal is at full strength, and you’re being watched. They are ready to kill you if I break free. I would be back to square one- assuming they re-sealed me and didn’t kill me. I thought you were at the top of your class?”_ **

It was Mitsuo that growled this time, gritting his teeth at the jab. He refused to let the Fox irritate him and refused to drop his guard down. If he did that, he might as well nuke the village himself. The shame that would be on his mother and father’s face, on Itachi’s and Sasuke’s. On Naruto’s. That was something he knew he’d never be able to deal with, the weight of it heavy on his soul.

“Then what was that before?”

**_“That was me trying to protect myself. Your chakra was non-existent, thanks to your inability to do that damned technique, and if I let it go on, they were going to kill your brother, and then you. If you die, I die. If your brother dies, my other half dies. Simple logic- don’t think it’s because you can actually control me that your claw did not find purchase in your brother’s throat.”_ **

_The mental image was one that Mitsuo could imagine all too vividly, and his stomach churned with disgust. His brother, blue eyes rapidly dimming, splayed out on the ground, staring at Mitsuo, reaching out with a limp hand and the cry of brother. The ghosts of his Haha and Chichi, standing behind him, glaring over at him, eyes hardened._

_Golden chains suffocating him, pinning him down, his father bending down next to his youngest, sorrowful looks in his eyes. “Kin-slayer.” They chanted, words hurting more than the Kyūbi. “Demon.” Naruto looked at him with one more look, innocent and brave and deaddyingIkilledhim. “Didn’t you love me Mitsuo? Wasn’t I good enough?”_

He turned away, blinking the vivid images away, trying not to focus on the malicious thoughts conjured by the Kyūbi. He’d _never_ let that happen- but the Fox all too gleefully reminded him that he had, of course, come close. It had been the Kyūbi's preservation of his other half that had stopped him from piercing his brother in two, and he _hated_ owing anything to that Fox.

They lapsed into silence, as the Kyūbi revealed his large teeth, hiding behind his lip. The Fox stared at him, with an analytical yet not openly hostile look on his face. It unnerved him more than the shudders he was fighting back, as the Fox dropped back down into a laying down position, the position he’d been in before.

**_“You have great power, but your fear stops you from using it. I will not be contained in some coward. No matter how much you wish to ignore me, I will always be here. Lingering, influencing, controlling_ ** **. _”_**

The words hurt, but as much as he hated to admit it, the Fox spoke some degree of sense. Clenching his fists tighter now, he turned his back and began to walk away, trying not to let what the Fox said linger in his mind, festering like a poison. He cast his head over his shoulder, his words bitter and darker than he’d ever let them get.

“There’s a reason I’m scared of your power: my parents wound up _dead_ because of you. They died in front of me and I’ve never been able to forget it! So, if I’m weak because I refuse to use your power, so be it!”

* * *

Mitsuo woke up in the hospital, surprisingly bandage-less, thick metal cuffs around his arms, legs, neck and waist. Next to him, there was Naruto, curled up against his chest, shifting slightly in response to his breathing. He tugged his arms to try and wrap them around his brother, but the bindings were durable and made to last- and it didn’t take a genius to realise why he’d been bound as he had.

_They were afraid of the Fox escaping._ It wasn’t an unfounded fear, considering that some part of the Fox had taken over him, scaring Kasuhiro and his gang through seven shades of hell, and mauling deep gouges into Kasuhiro’s arms. The smell of blood and the thrill of the chase had only egged him on, and his control when it came to Naruto being in danger had snapped quicker than a twig under his foot.

The burning of the seal as chakra leaked through it, holding and resisting the malevolent chakra. It could have ended so differently, with someone ending up dead, which would have more serious repercussions then what he did already. The repercussions were already stacking up- people were going to come after him and Naruto even more now, trying to “kill the demon.”

He’d painted another target on their back, and the village was unlikely to forget his lapse in control when it came to the Kyūbi, and there would be more people advocating for their execution. And while the Third Hokage could protect them somewhat, there was always going to be people who would come after them, try and kill them. His head felt oddly bare as he tilted his head, the simple movement sending an ache through his body.

The hitai-ate was on the cabinet next to the bed, looking like it had been ruthlessly cleaned, the buckle on the front shining with a new kind of intensity. _Has Naruto stayed here the entire night?_ Itachi appeared in from the door, looking at the cell-like room. It really was the cell- he was in the hospital, that was certain, but it looked like he was in the basement.

There were no windows to speak of, and the walls were a bricked grey, the air a little musty compared to the pure antiseptic smell of the upper floors. The bed that he was resting on had simple blankets, and simple pillows, as comfy as a rock, the blanket proving as much warmth as an open window on a cold winter’s day. Itachi looked unflappable, taking his mask off and holding it in his arms, allowing his full face to be on view.

There was no hint of fear, not that Mitsuo expected any from Itachi of all people, and there was no swirl of the Sharingan or its brethren. Combined with Itachi’s relaxed attitude, his demeanour calm, it meant that he clearly wasn’t anticipating for Mitsuo to fight. _That makes one of us- I’m surprised anyone trusts me after that._

“I took him to the hospital with you. A few cuts and bruises, but they healed quick. _Haha_ looked after him for the night.”

Mitsuo nodded his head, something slightly difficult with the cold metal of the restraint pressing against his throat. It was chafing somewhat as he coughed, blue eyes fixing on Itachi from his awkward position. Naruto stirred a little, head adjusting from its position, before relaxing again with a huff of breath.

_Will you still want to be around me when you wake up Naruto? Your big brother who nearly killed two of his allies? Who raised a hand to you and nearly struck you? Or will you run scared, staying away from me? I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to stay away from me Naruto._

“ _Arigatō_. The seal?”

“Intact. We had our fūinjutsu specialist look at it- the chakra only leaked through, the Kyūbi did not even come close to escaping. She was watched at all times.”

That was a relief. Had the Kyūbi escaped and decimated the building, he’d never have forgiven himself for slipping the responsibility he had. Itachi moved closer to Mitsuo as he adjusted his laying down position the best he could when he was being confined. Mitsuo knew that if it came to it, the Kyūbi could snap through the bonds easily because they could never be as strong as his mother’s chains- an ability he didn’t think he’d ever be able to recreate.

There was no knowledge of the ability, and without that, there wasn’t much of a foundation for him to learn it. The only thing that was keeping the Kyūbi contained was Mitsuo and Naruto, the jailers who had the key.

“Kasuhiro and the others?”

“Minor injuries all around. They are awaiting punishment for their attack upon you and are on suspension. You are facing minimal punishment, as it was self-defence. Naruto testified on your behalf, and your exemplar reputation as a shinobi helped too. The clan… aren’t happy with what happened to Taiko, but mother smoothed it over somewhat. Still, I would watch yourself when interacting with them.”

If they ended up with a punishment, then their parents would likely attest it. After all, he could do everything wrong, but any other shinobi’s mistakes weren’t as bad. For Mitsuo, self-defence was the same as throwing the first punch, because many people refused to see him and Naruto as anything other than the Fox.

He thanked Itachi again, as he slid his mask back into place, just as the Third Hokage and a fleet of ANBU came in, each one’s mask guarding their expression. Sarutobi Hiruzen looked at the restrained boy, his younger brother, and waved a leathery hand, directing some of his ANBU.

“Crow, Dog, I don’t think those bindings are necessary now.”

Some of the ANBU looked antsy, but Itachi and Dog didn’t have those reservations, both of them calmly walking over and removing the locked bindings with ease. Most of his superficial wounds had healed, courtesy of the Kyūbi not wanting its human container to die. Itachi carefully nudged Naruto awake, and it took him a few seconds to open his eyes, staring with an adorable doe-eyed look on his face.

The minute he realised that Mitsuo was awake too, he launched himself out of Itachi’s arms and flung his own around Mitsuo’s neck, hugging him tightly to the extent where he felt his airwaves closing.

“Mitsuo! You’re awake!”

Mitsuo nodded as he wrapped his now free arms around Naruto’s back, holding him close as he burrowed his chin into the crook of his neck. Hiruzen watched with an amused smile as Itachi and Dog fell back into position. Naruto stayed there for a second before Mitsuo pulled back, scanning his younger brother worriedly. He trusted Itachi’s word when he said that Naruto was fine, and had healed, but he was still nervous and needed to confirm for himself that he was fine.

“I am, _Otōto._ I’m sorry about scaring you.”

Naruto comically puffed up his chest, hugging his brother again. For the first time in a while, Mitsuo was reminded that Naruto had grown from the baby he’d raised and that he was getting older. Soon, he’d be going into the Academy, where he could be a shinobi who could defend himself. And he had no doubt that Naruto was going to be skilled in his own right.

“You didn’t scare me! I was worried you were hurt!”

That statement would have been more believable had it not been for the quiver of his bottom lip, a telltale sign that Naruto was bluffing. He smiled and went along with it, knowing that Hiruzen likely wanted to talk to him without young ears listening. Mitsuo ruffled his head, as he hugged his brother like it was his last day on earth, huffing and whispering playfully.

“Then I’m sorry for worrying you, _Akarui_.”

“Crow, why don’t you and Naruto go and get us all some refreshments?”

Distracting Naruto with food was a sure-fire way to draw his attention away from his brother. Mitsuo made a nudging gesture towards Itachi who stepped forwards, Mitsuo’s hand retreating from ruffling Naruto’s bright yellow hair.

“Go on.”

Naruto somewhat reluctantly went with Itachi, holding his hand. Hiruzen waited until the two of them were safely out of the room before jumping Mitsuo with his questions and conversation, Mitsuo adjusting his position on the bed in response. Hiruzen sat down next to the bed, oddly informal for a Kage, as Mitsuo put the conversation he had with the Kyūbi out of his mind, trying not to seem too rattled but failing. With some amount of hope, they’d put it down to the channelling the aspect of the Fox thing.

“You managed to completely burn out your chakra reserves, narrowly avoiding damaging your chakra pathways. That’s quite a feat when you consider the size of your reserves. You’re not going to be able to do ninjutsu for a while, but the medic-nin are convinced you’ll recover quickly.”

That was good news at the very least. If he couldn’t do missions, then he wouldn’t be earning money, and if he wasn’t earning money, then things would begin to run out. Of course, he did save up money, but even his higher-ranked jobs didn’t pay that much once it had gotten through the village. He arched his back, still feeling like he’d had the beat down of the century.

“I think we have something to talk about, don’t you?”


	11. Shisui of the Body Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I held no love for Konoha. Why should I? The inhabitants save for three treated me and my brother like dirt. The village took away almost everything I ever loved. The Hokage did nothing to help us- we had to fend for ourselves like feral dogs. That sounds like a recipe for a rogue shinobi, or worse. But I didn't. I stayed in Konoha for Naruto, for my father. Konoha wasn't my village, but it was my fathers. It was my mothers. If they died protecting it, then I would do my best to continue that legacy. A promise to them both."

Shisui was a breath of fresh air almost. With the around three year age gap between him and the other two, he was the one you could go to if you needed to talk to someone about something you didn't understand. Unlike Mitsuo and Itachi, being one of the branch members, Shisui was lighthearted and jovial, able to take things seriously, but able to switch it off at a minute's notice.

While he was Itachi's best friend, Mitsuo liked his presence, being someone that he could look up to. Shisui didn't treat him any different- he wasn't the demon fox, he wasn't Mitsuo, who rejected a place in ANBU, he wasn't Namikaze Mitsuo, son of the Yondaime. He was just Uzumaki Mitsuo, and that was all he was.

They strode along together, walking on the outskirts of the village, as Naruto and Sasuke played ahead, chasing each other with rocks and throwing them at "foreign shinobi". Said foreign shinobi were simply trees with angry-looking faces carved into them. It kept the two five-year-olds entertained. It helped that Shisui was known as Shisui of the Body Flicker, which was similar but not the same as the Hiraishin.

Shisui was the only one fast enough at the Body Flicker Technique to leave after images, and due to his expertise, Mitsuo had gotten faster, also able to balance out his chakra better. Of course, it was still volatile at times, and the Hiraishin had its own aspects that differed from the Body Flicker, but Shisui's guidance truly helped Mitsuo with his self-given task.

His chakra control was still absolutely awful, to put it mildly.

"I hear it's your birthday coming up Mitsuo. What are you going to do for it?"

Shisui asked innocently, tilting his head at Mitsuo as they kept walking. Mitsuo hummed, having not got anything planned in particular. Usually, they didn't have enough money to celebrate both birthdays, and it wasn't much of an event anyway: mainly just him and Naruto spending time as a family. Naruto would always draw him a card of some sorts, on the back of an old book or something unimportant, all in all, a quiet day.

Each card he was given was collected in a small box, which Dog had sealed for him. That was another interest of Mitsuo's, if not because of his heritage, then because of all the practicality they had. He wanted to know more about the seal on his stomach, on Naruto's stomach. He wanted to know the ones that used to be on their homes, the ones his father used. He wanted to know more about the Hiraishin seals and what caused them to work.

He wanted to know how to stop the Fox if anything were to happen.

Unfortunately, seals weren't actively taught by anyone but private tutors, and again, without access to some of those… it was difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. He knew a few basic ones, courtesy of Dog, who somehow managed to teach without speaking a word, but he knew that Dog was not a specialist in fūinjutsu. How did he know that? Because Itachi had done him a favour and looked up his fellow ANBU, and while he kept everything else a secret, he confirmed that Dog had likely shown him all he knew.

Or at least, all he could learn as an essential novice.

"I think I'll just be at home with Naruto all day. I don't really have any plans."

Shisui gasped, and he couldn't tell if it was a joke or something serious. Itachi kept quiet as the two five-year-olds chased one another, jumping over invisible logs and darting to the side of invisible attacks. The sight made him smile, the two boys being so light-hearted, Naruto smiling and giggling like nothing bad had happened in the world. Naruto's blue eyes were wide and happy, his step had a bounce in it, a laugh that could cheer up even the saddest person.

"We celebrated my eleventh birthday."

Itachi pointed out, still looking ahead. _That was different. That was your birthday, not mine. I haven't properly celebrated my birthday since I was six years old. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate me and Naruto spending our time together every year, that is my birthday celebration, but with friends? Not a chance._

With the children just as likely to ignore him as the adults were, there was nobody but his brother to celebrate with. And while he wasn't vain, he knew that many people tended to flock to those who were deemed "powerful." Kasuhiro was an example of that, as were many of the girls in the Academy, who stared at Itachi and Shisui as if they had their Sharingan out. The few friends he'd had, back when he'd been "normal" aside from being the son of the Yondaime, had all drifted away since.

"You enjoy your birthday. It's just another day for me."

He knew that excuse wouldn't fly the minute the two Uchiha's stared at him, mirror looks on their face. They were disapproving, faces pinched, their chakra's spiking, but not overly so. It was as if you were to cook a bowl of ramen, where the pot was just beginning to spit out the water just like a wayward fire jutsu. Which both Uchiha's were capable of doing, and to a high level of efficiency.

Mitsuo just had a practical way of thinking about everything: why bother with his own birthday and waste money if he didn't care for it? It was a no brainer, a simple point with a simple answer. What they'd done for Itachi wasn't even much, it was a quiet affair compared to the massive party that he knew had taken place at the Uchiha compound, a way to shake hands with other clans, and form alliances which would benefit them in the future.

Most clan heads and their children went to the outing, such as the Nara's and Hyūga's, despite many of their clan heads only having children around Naruto and Sasuke's age. Nobody wanted to refuse the Uchiha's, as not only was Fugaku a terrifying adversary when he wanted to be, but he was an even more powerful ally.

Obviously, even though Mitsuo was essentially the clan head of both the Uzumaki Clan and the newly formed Namikaze Clan (although it was a debate whether such a thing existed considering it started with his father, and there were only two members)-both titles he could not take up until he hit sixteen years of age- he and Naruto had not received an invite to Itachi's birthday.

Because yes Konoha, it made sense to train children as young as six to become killers- even if said children did agree to the training- but they couldn't become the head of their clan if there was no other. It was less that he wanted the responsibility, and more so he felt like he owed it to his parents, to carry on their legacy. His father was great and deserved to have his legacy honoured: even if it was through the creation of a clan and not old folk tales.

Though that task might be one greater than Mitsuo could do: it took more than one member to make a clan, and he couldn't create a clan until he was sixteen- just like he couldn't change his name until then. Or, strictly speaking, he could, but his guardian would have to sign the papers, and considering he was a ward of the state, which meant the papers went via the Hokage's office, there was no way for him to return to Namikaze Mitsuo.

Mitsuo still wasn't sure what to think about changing his name. He would never get the old identity back; he could never be that carefree child he had been once. On one hand, changing his name back to the original meaning- living light- and getting _Namikaze_ back, meant driving a metaphorical wedge between him and his brother.

Unless Naruto felt like changing his name- which Mitsuo would never ask him to- they would be Uzumaki Naruto and Namikaze Mitsuo. It wasn't uncommon for siblings to have different names, but he didn't want to drive a wedge between him and his brother.

On the other hand, he would take the identity that had been intended for him for his parents. They had never intended for him to be _Uzumaki Mitsuo,_ instead holding his father's name. If he changed his name back, he would be reclaiming a legacy he should have had from the start.

There was a lot of thought that he needed to put into this.

"It's not just a day. You only turn twelve _once,_ Mitsuo. I wish I could turn twelve again."

"No, you don't."

Itachi interceded, rolling his eyes. Shisui grumbled something under his breath as he slugged Itachi in the shoulder, with enough force to make the younger Uchiha grumble. Shisui maintained his mock glare, eyes narrowed with an "I dare you to contradict me again" look, as he continued on smoothly, unperturbed as ever.

"Alright, so I don't. Fourteen is a good age to be- nothing bad happens when you're fourteen. But still, _twelve._ Come on, we have to celebrate. Just this one, _please."_

Shisui was persistent when he wanted to be, and his eyes were damn killers when he turned them on someone. And funnily enough, Mitsuo didn't mean the Sharingan, even though that was deadly enough. Mitsuo's eye twitched as he tried to look away, only for Itachi to be mirroring the look, which was _much_ more effective then he'd admit.

The only problem was that with Shisui, one turned into _every year from then on._ It turned into multiple. One spar with Shisui had turned to one every Sunday, where Mikoto would take Naruto and the three of them would take turns sparring with another. It went from a one-off thing to a weekly thing. He knew he was going to regret it, but he didn't want to upset Shisui and Itachi either. Putting on a show of indifference, he shrugged, his feet continuing on in their measured steps.

"Fine. Just nothing too large and exuberant…"

* * *

"Naruto, do you know what I heard about today?"

His face furrowed adorably; the plain innocence feigned on his face. Mitsuo pursed his lips, humming as he organised some papers, pushing them aside. The hesitation in Naruto's answer was enough to give some indication that there was something his younger brother hadn't told him, and Mitsuo knew by now all the ways to drag out a confession. _That sounded darker then I meant it to be._

"No? What happened?"

Mitsuo knew full well that Naruto had something to do with it, but he was impressed that his brother had gotten in and out without detecting it. His lying face had gotten better as he got older, but there were still tics that gave him away, that indicated that he wasn't being wholly truthful. There was the quiver of his lip, the rising of his cheekbones, a sly grin that threatened to break out over his face.

"I heard that somebody swapped Kasuhiro and his gangs' shampoo out with bright green dye and coloured all their clothes pink. It wouldn't have anything to do with you, would it?"

Granted, they weren't apart of the main houses, so the civilian houses were significantly easier to break into. They weren't as highly guarded as the main clan compounds, due to the lack of protection that they needed. Outside of the major clans, there were no Kekkei Genkai in the general population of Konoha, and as such, was less reason for them to be hunted down. Naruto snickered, before beginning to cough, and Mitsuo pressed him with his best older brother look. Naruto dipped his head a little bit, before finally coming clean, with a slight cry.

"I was angry that they hurt us. But you said that we couldn't hurt our allies, and messing with them isn't hurting them is it? I'm sorry if I made you mad!"

Mitsuo placed his hand on Naruto's shoulder, guiding him to the sofa where he sat with a humph. He wasn't mad, wasn't even upset. He was amused more than anything, and while he knew he should really discourage things like this, he'd rather Naruto pranked them then try to physical hurt them. To try and do that while untrained… it wasn't going to end up well. In fact, it would end badly enough that Mitsuo wouldn't be happy.

"Pranked. That's the word you're looking for."

Naruto nodded but he hugged a nearby cushion, pressing his face into it, revealing only his blue eyes. Mitsuo mussed his hair, soothing him like he was well experienced with now, humming a low tune to keep him calm. He shook his head to try and reiterate the point that he wasn't mad, wasn't going to scream at him in anger.

"I'm not mad. In fact, I'm glad that you pranked them instead of hurting them. Just… no harmful pranks."

"No harmful pranks!"

Naruto repeated in agreement, wrapping his arms around his brother as he burrowed into Mitsuo's chest. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Naruto pulled away, his eyes wide with astonishment and his ever-cheerful grin on his face. A sad Naruto meant something was very very wrong in the world, and he'd not done a good enough job as a big brother.

"They look at us as something other than a demon when they're pranked."

Naruto remarked idly, somewhat mischievously. There was a problem with that- he'd done it in the middle of the night, so there shouldn't have really been anyone else to _prove_ that theory. He looked at Naruto with a narrowed face, a curious glint of his own eyes as he narrowed them at his brother, who shuffled in his seat again.

"Naruto…. Who else did you prank?"

He grinned sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders and tackling his brother, wrapping his arms around him and trying to tickle him. Mitsuo let it happen as he tickled the spot behind his neck that caused Naruto to melt under his touch, his eyes screaming "stop it!".

"Nobody, _dattebayo_."

The shock of Naruto using his own spin on that word caused him to roll off the sofa and Naruto land on his chest with a solid thump, allowing _him_ to tickle him ferociously. Sometimes, the silliest of things could shock a shinobi- it didn't always have to be blood or the skill of their opponent. Letting Naruto enjoy his momentary advantage, Mitsuo went limp, letting Naruto snicker cheekily. He tilted his head with curiosity, innocently, genuinely this time.

"What's wrong with _dattebayo_?"

Little did Mitsuo know he'd just created a prank-loving monster. Konoha would quickly learn not to attack the two Uzumaki brothers, lest they be on the receiving end of some devilish pranks, courtesy of the unusually stealthy youngest.

"Nothing nothing. Now, where did you learn to be so stealthy...?"

* * *

"That was a good spar."

Itachi commented idly as they headed back to Mitsuo's apartment, sweating pouring down their faces, eyes flickering from some degree of exhaustion. The two of them were equal in ability, and the spars always came down to the wire, usually who could endure longest- even though that was equal for the both of them- or for however long they had. Neither one of them were ones to give up a fight, especially if they had something to fight for.

In their cases, Naruto and Sasuke. The days had gone past far too quickly for Mitsuo's liking because now, it was his birthday. And he knew that neither Shisui or Itachi had forgotten about their little agreement, just like Naruto wouldn't have forgotten the date. Less noticeable things may pass his little brother by, but family and family-related dates? There was something _seriously_ wrong if they slipped him by.

"It was. I've been trying out more versatile wind Jutsu, but without a teacher… it's tough. Wind comes naturally to me, but without any kind of proper idea of example wind Jutsu? Independent study doesn't mean much."

Itachi tilted his head, rolling his shoulders as his eyes momentary deviated from the path in front of them to Mitsuo's own, and he could so very clearly see the ghost of the Sharingan, tomoe and all, spinning in front of him.

When he had his Sharingan activated, it was easy to see how he'd so easily made it into the upper ranks of the Academy. At least, that was what many people assumed. But they forgot that it was a great tragedy that caused the eye to activate and that it was only as skilful as the wielder.

"I can check our library to see if there's anything on wind jutsu and nature."

He offered, but it was more of a statement than a question. Mitsuo nodded in agreement, as Itachi diverted his eyes back to the paths. The streets were occupied, busy with the hustle and bustle of shinobi and civilians, each one having their own destination in mind.

The buildings loomed over them all, like some kind of guardian, but there was nothing more watching then the four Hokage, watching over them from their positions on the monument, watching the village they all loved so dearly.

"So, what have you been trying?"

"I've been observing other people's Jutsu, like your Water Dragon Bullet. Wind is easy to fix into what I, in theory, want it to do, but to get it to go against its own nature… it proves difficult. The wind clones were easy to combine because the clone naturally melded with the chakra."

Itachi hummed in the way that meant he was thinking. Itachi was someone who you could go to for advice because he'd give it in an unbiased manner. He wouldn't exuberantly praise you or mollycoddle you, but he wouldn't criticise every flaw in your Jutsu either. The ability to just be impartial, even when talking to his friend- it was a trait that Mitsuo admired.

With nobody else to give him constructive criticism, Mitsuo knew he relied heavily on Shisui and Itachi, more so then they relied on him.

"I'd look into the actual aspects of wind nature before trying anything like that: the problem could be that you're trying too hard to make it into something it's not- a water Jutsu is a water Jutsu for a reason, and there are limitations to what can be done."

It sounded so simple, logical in any sense. Fire couldn't be water like grass couldn't be metal. It could give off the illusion that it was something that it was not, but it was fundamentally the same. It was so simple that it had completely slipped his mind, with his unnecessary habit of complicating things. Nothing could be simple, there was always some underlying flaw that had to be addressed.

Nothing could be perfect in life, especially not one as tumultuous as the life of a shinobi, but he wanted anything involving his skill to be honed to a razer point. Not for the glory, not for the pride, but for his brother. If he could figure all this stuff out before Naruto began to really need his Jutsu, then Mitsuo could give him a hand. He didn't have to try and establish all the ins and outs of wind nature by himself.

"Thank you for your help Itachi."

"It makes for a better spar. Now come on. I don't want to see what a bored Naruto and Shisui are like when put together. Hopefully, my _Otōto_ will keep them reigned in."


	12. A Party to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The day we cemented our friendship as brothers was one that I could never forget. Like Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, we formed our own little team- together in every capacity but official. To this day, I’ve never been able to forget the fond memories I had with them, for however short it may have lasted. They were my brothers for all intents of the word- and like Naruto always says, a family is more than blood. And the memory of us as we were, my birthday and the days after it- it was one that I would hold onto for many days afterwards, even through the humbling times that would shortly follow.

Naruto’s laugh was the first warning that he got, mischievous and cheeky, as though he’d planned a great prank and pulled it off. As such, when Mitsuo stopped in the doorway to their apartment, the door wide open, his expression was schooled carefully. _Remember my training, remember my training. My emotions are mine, not theirs to be read._

Granted, that training was for a serious mission and not for the fact that your five-year-old brother had made the house _bright orange._ Not the stitchless sofa, not the worn kitchen, and not just the few books they owned. The _whole_ house was bright orange. It was something like a nightmare, because while he had no problem with the bright orange for Naruto- even though it made being a shinobi slightly more difficult- but the whole house?

It was terrifying. Not “I will hunt you down and kill you so brutally you won’t know you’re dead” levels of terrifying, but still somewhat high on the list. He stared into Shisui’s eyes which were staring at him with a wry smile, and he knew that he was on the receiving end of a genjutsu, because even though the villagers made him nervous at the best of times, he trusted Itachi and Shisui with his life.

They would never put him under one if they intended to cause him harm. There was a slight strain in Shisui’s face as Itachi placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Mitsuo to turn to face him, the strain evident on his face too. It only seemed to relax after the hand contact, only reaffirming the fact that it was not, in fact, the Sharingan’s genjutsu, but a general area of affect variant. Or maybe a sensory one, even though he’d not heard anything abnormal.

“We’re not quite ready. Just give me and Naruto a second.”

Shisui said, turning away. Itachi reassured Mitsuo as he fought against his instincts to dispel it. Though not harmful, the uncomfortable feeling of remaining in one rolled over his skin. His experience with genjutsu had been courtesy of Itachi because he trusted nobody else to put him under a low-levelled one. If the village hated his guts, they would take all the chances they could to add a little bit more torment, hence why he was so reluctant to let anyone else do it.

But once he realised he could trust Itachi, he learnt quickly about them. It helped that he was a Sharingan user, and well adept with genjutsu thanks to his Kekkei Genkai. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his birthday- the celebration of it- began with a prank, especially with Naruto’s penchant for them. He was just thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t _actually_ painted the house entirely orange, which seemed like a very Naruto thing to do.

“Okay, you can dispel it Mitsuo.”

He placed his hands in the required action and dispelled the genjutsu, relieved to see the apartment looking fairly normal. Normal in the sense that it wasn’t bright orange. The amount of effort they went through was tantamount to how much they cared about Mitsuo’s birthday. Confetti was draped along the floor, so thick that you couldn’t even see the wooden floorboards beneath. The colours were bright and cheerful, blues and oranges and pinks and reds.

The colours of sunsets and the colours of family. There were banners all over the place like they had done for Naruto’s birthday, but they were brand new, made of what looked like clean linen and the most obnoxious paint available. Balloons were bouncing off the walls, each one having different symbols etched into them, spinning and refracting small beams of light.

Blankets were draped over the sofas and between the one table that they had, making a den, the likes of which he’d not had since he was a small child. Underneath, there were various selections of food, another mimicry of Naruto’s birthday.

On the savoury side of things, there was narutomaki; the pink tube-like treats with pink swirls in the middle, onigiri; smelling delicious and neat, the rice white and fluffy with chilli through it, Karē Pan; crispy and holding curry within, and of course, Ramen; specially ordered from Ichiraku, filled with egg and pork and of course, naruto fish.

Of course, there were other more sweet things too, such as wagashi; a selection of rice cakes and rice dumplings such as yokan and daifuku, taiyaki; shaped like a lucky fish, a biscuit containing red beans, and mushi pan, a pale sponge that had several fruits running through it like a sweet jam. They smelled heavenly, some versions of the food so expensive that Mitsuo often tried to create his own variants where he could.

Of course, some were impossible to make conventionally, because he lacked the specific tools he needed. The door to the kitchen was shut firmly, Sasuke lingering beside it protectively, as if his entire mission was to stop people from going inside. _Namely, me._

“Do you like it Mitsuo? Do you do you do you?”

He laughed at his younger brother’s excitement, nodding as he allowed himself to relax, messing around with Naruto’s hair. Itachi walked over to Sasuke, closing the door behind him, poking him in the forehead in a brother to brother ritual.

“I love it, but where did you get all the food?”

“Oba helped. So did Teuchi-san.”

That explained a lot. They were the only two who would cook for the Uzumaki brothers without trying to poison them, and while Dog helped out a lot, the last time he tried to cook, it had ended up in a kitchen soaked with a water Jutsu. ANBU were good at many things, but Dog, it seemed, didn’t possess a talent in cooking. It was a lot of food for just two people to prepare, and it must have taken them a long time to make it. And while he appreciated it, he was all too much aware of how they could have better spent their time. Still, dipping his head, he smiled widely, not wanting to disappoint the excitable Shisui and Naruto, who were bouncing off the walls. You wouldn’t think there was a nine-year age gap between the two of them if you compared their behaviour. 

“Presents presents presents! We got you presents!”

Naruto jumped up and down, so heavy on his feet that he was convinced that the floor was going to cave in underneath them. Mitsuo placed his hands-on Naruto’s shoulders, holding him down with a chuckle, as Itachi and Sasuke came closer, the latter focusing on the kitchen door like it had personally insulted him. Mitsuo looked at the elder Uchiha’s, his head tilting, blinking his bright blue eyes.

“You didn’t have to get me presents- the food- the house- would have been enough.”

“We have to get you presents; it wouldn’t be a birthday otherwise.”

Shisui told him blankly, daring him to disagree. Naruto jumped forwards into Mitsuo’s arms, forcing him to rely on his lightning-quick reflexes to catch his brother and adjust into a better grip. Naruto’s arms snaked around Mitsuo’s neck, his legs around his waist, and pressed his head underneath Mitsuo’s chin. He pulled back so that he met his brother’s blue eyes as Naruto placed the palm of his right hand onto Mitsuo’s whiskered cheek.

“You get me presents Mitsuo! It’s only fair you get some too! Even Dog brought something!”

Forget all the jutsu in the world and all the weapons in the world. The most dangerous weapon was Naruto’s baby blues, able to turn even the sternest and cold-hearted person to a pile of mush on the floor. They were more mesmerising than the Sharingan, an endless ocean, holding so much faith for the one he called brother. It was a hard expectation to live up to, but Mitsuo was determined to.

“Alright alright. Let’s open them then.”

The grin on Naruto’s face was one he never wanted to be removed. It deserved to stay there for the rest of his life.

* * *

The presents he got were ranging from small to large, but all of them had love put into them, and in the end, that was all that really mattered. Shisui had gotten him two things. One, a statue of three small crows. They were carefully etched, flying one above each other, connected by a fine string. It didn’t seem significant to any outsider, considering Itachi’s and Shisui’s significance with crows.

It was their summon after all, and there was a kind of significance between them. But for there to be three- it was as if they were their own band of brothers. He may not have the crow summon, but the fact that it was there? It was unofficially declaring that they were all brothers, be damned what the Uchiha’s would say. Mikoto would likely be approving, but Fugaku? He would be the complete opposite, and unfortunately for Mitsuo, what Fugaku said, often went.

The second present was something more intricate, several scrolls filled different kind of jutsu and seals alike, and a book about seal basics. Shisui also promised to give him more pointers on the Body Flicker. Itachi hadn’t got him anything physical, apart from a book about wind natures, but he had the promise that he would teach Mitsuo the Uchiha Clan’s Great Fireball Jutsu- against his father’s wishes of course. He also promised to teach him Lightning Flash, a basic lightning Jutsu that would get him well on his way to mastering more lightning Jutsu.

But there was one thing from the two of them that Mitsuo hadn’t anticipated- a lone scroll separated from the others, different in nature. It was separated for some reason, and it made him wonder what was so significant about the scroll that it had to be kept aside.

“That is a scroll containing how to do the summoning technique. I’m sure you remember what we were taught about them.”

Itachi said to him, leading to Mitsuo nodding as Naruto squirmed to be put down, running around the house and over to Sasuke, who smiled at Naruto as the two whispered conspiratorially. _I’m so glad that Naruto’s beginning to get over the attack: and I think I have Sasuke to thank for that. His blunt attitude where he doesn’t mince his words makes it simple for Naruto, without bluntly calling him an idiot._

_“_ Yes. It’ll take me to whatever place I have the closest affinity for since I don’t have a contract.”

Shisui and Itachi both nodded, casting their eyes to the scroll before nodding. There were many benefits to the summons, from messengers to combatants to distractions. It was well-known that one person could have many summonses, and that summons did not have to answer the… well… summon. He wasn’t going to immediately try, because he did know respect.

And respect did not include intruding on whatever summon he went to, just because he wanted to try it out. That would get him kicked out of their home for sure. Plus, he’d be ditching his birthday party, which was also disrespectful. Mitsuo was a big believer in mutual respect going a long way.

“I’ll be careful.”

Naruto and Sasuke had worked on a present together, even though Mitsuo had specifically said that he didn’t need any. But between the two of them, they’d gotten him some new clothing, Naruto knowing his style far better than others. For the ever-practical Mitsuo, presents that had use were ones he preferred. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the ornament that Shisui had gotten him- it would be going in his room, in pride of place.

Dog had also gotten him a present, and it was a picture. It wasn’t a photograph, but it was a hand-drawn picture- someone had obviously taken a lot of time with it. It was a picture of Minato with his Hokage cape flaring out behind him, his right arm around Kushina, whose red hair was draped down and along her back.

In her arms, there was Naruto, with a dusting of blond fuzzy hair, and his ever-present baby blues, jagged and shining even within the confines of the painting. In between the two of his parents, there was his young six-year-old self, his skin pink and colourful, his eyes alight with brotherly duty. They all looked so content in the painting, their parents proud and tall, a tale of a life that could have been had the events of six years ago not happened.

The painting was so lifelike that Mitsuo could have sworn it was just a real-life picture, except there was no chance for it to have been taken. He stared at it in-depth, for far longer than he should have, memories of his mother and father in front of him, swimming before his eyes. _Haha. Chichi. Are you… proud?_

* * *

_“_ There is no need for war. Not so soon after we lost the Yondaime. It’s not right for us to be treated the way we are, but it’s not right for us to uprise against the village either.”

Itachi said aloud, flashing an apologetic glance at Mitsuo for bringing up his father. It didn’t upset him to think about his dad, although at one point it might have. He’d been forced to spend less and less time at the new, more remote, Uchiha Compound, ever since Itachi had gotten word of the Coup D’état that was waiting to happen. The conversations had been subtle, the meetings even more so.

They hoped to use Itachi’s position in ANBU as an advantage because they believed that he could easily defeat the Third with his Sharingan. The only Uchiha left out of the meetings was little Sasuke, in which Mitsuo often took him on Itachi’s behalf, the two boys having a “sleepover.” Of course, strictly speaking, Mitsuo wasn’t supposed to know about those meetings _either,_ but when you had two friends-like-brothers who were both sitting in the meetings, and they trusted you implicitly: you knew the secret.

Shisui, while also in ANBU, didn’t have much sway as Itachi did, despite Shisui also being skilled. Whether it was because Itachi was a captain or because he was next in line for the clan-head title, Mitsuo didn’t know- he didn’t know enough about the inner workings of a clan to find out.

“Do they think it will be different if an Uchiha becomes Hokage? They are no more perfect than you or me.”

They continued on for a few seconds, kicking the dust as they walked, paces uneven and loud, a contrast to the normal silent and fleet-footed shinobi that they were.

_I can see the point of both sides, but there were far better ways to approach this. Nobody can prove that the Kyūbi was controlled by a Sharingan. Nobody can prove it wasn’t one either, especially with it being the most likely answer. But just because it was the most likely didn’t mean it was the right one. Nobody could say the Uchiha’s were involved, there are only suspicions. They should be watched, maybe, but not isolated like they are nothing better than trash._

_“_ I want the path of peace for both sides. There need be no more bloodshed… not over a stupid pair of eyes. A stupid bloodline.”

This was the first time that Shisui had actively spoken against the bloodline he’d been born into, downright dismissive. Mitsuo couldn’t relate, because while he had a strong bloodline, there was no Kekkei Genkai of the Uzumaki Clan that was heard of. His mother had her chains, but he wasn’t sure if that was just an ability she developed like the seals. And with Namikaze just being a family name, there were no Kekkei Genkai there either.

Nor a clan, but again, he was hoping to change that.

“There’s got to be something we can do to bring about peace.”

Mitsuo thought out loud, adjusting the hood of his jacket. His fists curled at the idea of another fight, one where his friends, the closest thing he had to a family, would be dragged in the middle. Fighting had lost him his family once, had kept his father away from him for the longest time, and he would be damned if he let his family escape or die in front of him again.

_I have friends on both sides of the fight! What can I do without dooming the other to a hellish peril? The Uchiha have their Sharingan- some of them do anyway- but there is plenty of other talented shinobi in the village: it would be a blood bath. And because of my fealty to the Hokage, I’d be forced to fight against the Uchiha’s, regardless of my own opinion on the matter. I cannot choose between the civilians of Konoha, of Dog and my Father’s pride, and Shisui and Itachi, my friends within the village._

He paused, his thoughts freezing in the moment as his blue eyes shone, deep in thought. There was no way they were powerful enough to even consider trying to compel them to be peaceful. Genjutsu… none of them knew a genjutsu strong enough for it to even phase anyone.

Nothing shy of a Kekkei Genkai would work, and ones that actually managed to way someone’s entire way of thinking were as rare as someone rising from the dead. Wait… _Shisui’s_ _Eyes! What about Kotoamatsukami?_

Mitsuo wasn’t exactly the most knowledgeable about Shisui’s Mangekyō’s power, beyond the terms of “an incredibly powerful genjutsu, beyond the likes of any conventional jutsu.” He could be barking up the wrong tree with his suggestion, but there was always the chance that it was a viable idea.

“What if… Shisui uses _Kotoamatsukami?_ There’d be no bloodshed... we could convince them to abandon the coup. Or at least if I understand it right…”

They all hesitated, turning to look at one another, each with different faces. Itachi was difficult to read, but undoubtedly knowing that it would be needed to be used on his father of all people. It was bad enough that doing _anything_ to influence a clan head was treason, but it only got worse once you brought family ties into it. 

In an odd display of affection for him, he pressed his hand on Itachi’s shoulder, the gesture fleeting but comforting. Itachi did not pull away, letting the touch linger before Mitsuo removed it himself, letting it drop by his side limply.

A father should not have to be suspicious against his son, and a son should not have to hide from his father. A best friend should not have to spy on someone he called brother. Simple rules, that didn’t always work out in someone’s favour.

That never worked out in anyone’s favour. Mitsuo knew the importance of bonds, even if he was somewhat lacking in that department.

A shinobi may have to be able to work in the harshest conditions, but it didn’t mean they weren’t allowed to react badly to an eventuality. If someone’s closest ally was massacred in front of them, they were expected to compartmentalise until here was a safe time to grieve- one couldn’t serve the village or get revenge if they were dead. It was better he reacted now, regardless of how stoic, then when he was operating on a mission.

“Would it work on Fugaku?”

Mitsuo asked outwardly, voice quiet and solemn. It was the most unfavourable situation to be in and had he been able to do it himself, he would have happily taken the burden off of his two friends. It hurt him to betray the Uchiha, but they were so much not in the right. It hurt in a way that Mitsuo was unfamiliar with because although he did not talk to Fugaku, it felt as if he was betraying the trust of Mikoto. _Neither_ side was in the right, and the three of them didn’t want any kind of bloodshed.

Even though Mitsuo didn’t care for Konoha, and they had done nothing for him and his brother, it didn’t mean he wanted the whole place wiped off the map. There were kind people here, like Teuchi-san, Dog, and they didn’t deserve to have their home eradicated because of something so petty.

The war they were going to instigate would drag innocents in the middle, blood was strewn across Konoha streets, the cries of children as slaughters happened before their eyes.

Orphans, both Uchiha and other clans and civilians, too many to deal with, genin forced to fight people out of their expertise. He took in a shallow breath to dismiss the images that could all too easily change into something else.

“It would work on anyone.”

Shisui murmured aloud, eyes swirling to life in his commonly unused Mangekyō Sharingan. In a way, Mitsuo could relate. Because just like how the seal on his stomach and the scar on his arm was an unwelcome reminder of what he contained within him, and what happened, the Mangekyō was a reminder of when he’d let his teammate die. His normally dark eyes came to life in a swirl of red, the normally beady pupils shaping themselves into the unique four-pointed pinwheel.

“I’ll help however I can. You have my word, Shisui.”

Mitsuo told him with conviction, completely missing the small smile on Shisui’s face. It was hard to smile in such a situation because nobody won; not Shisui, not Mitsuo, and especially not Itachi. In an oddly affectionate way, Mitsuo brought Shisui into a shy hug, as Itachi followed suit. While Shisui was the most affectionate out of the trio, the other two weren’t exactly against emotional displays- they just couldn’t indulge in them often for fear of being declared incompetent to do fieldwork.

Little did either of the two of them know that a year from now, the band of brothers would be forced to separate, walk down paths of life that neither of them could follow the other.

“Brothers.”

Mitsuo said, with conviction and strength, bearing his soul to those he trusted the most. They all linked their fists, staring at one another with blazing determination. _Who would have guessed that a chūnin and two ANBU would try and avoid war?_ Shisui linked his fists with Itachi and Mitsuo as they all echoed, with Konoha at their backs.

“Brothers.”

It was both a vow and a pact.


	13. The Pinwheel Flickers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shisui: my brother who was doomed from the start. A guiding influence in my life, light-hearted and always wanting to do the best thing. Konoha repaid someone who would do anything to protect the village with death, and it was another person they had taken away from me. And I held the guilt of Shisui’s death close because while I couldn’t do anything to stop it, I wished I would have been able to. And that guilt was the catalyst for me pushing myself harder than ever before- and it took the other stubborn Uchiha to pull me out of it.”

It was a dark day, the air smelling of static, the rain drumming against the windows. The sky was dark like the clouds battled the blue, and the streets of Konoha were empty. Naruto and Sasuke were sitting in Naruto’s room, playing some game that Mitsuo wasn’t privy to, while Mitsuo himself was in the kitchen cooking some fish which he’d caught in the river that morning.

The day wasn’t anything odd or concerning, bad weather aside, and it was another covert operation of “do not let the elder Uchiha know that his youngest is with the demon foxes.” So, you know, nothing out of the ordinary there. They were playing happily together, and Mitsuo couldn’t help but glance wistful glances at where they were.

_Despite everything that Fugaku has likely said to both Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke, they still hang around with us. And, not only that, but they treat us like we are equals. I guess the saying nobody can control an Uchiha is true, because not even an Uchiha themselves can control an Uchiha. It just doesn’t work in our favour with all this talk of a coup. Something's coming on the horizon, I don’t know how, but I can sense it. And it’s not the Fox: he’s slumbering deep inside, unable to be stirred._

Thanks to the knowledge of the coup, the Hokage had slowly been recalling his most skilled shinobi and keeping them around the village. That included Mitsuo. He’d been lucky that he liked to save his money rather than spending it unnecessarily, because with missions on a standstill for him, so was their influx of money.

Still, he wasn’t the most talented, but there was a lack of jōnin around, and they needed all hands on deck. Mitsuo didn’t want to leave the two Uchiha’s alone during this time- so at least he didn’t need an excuse to stay within the village.

Sometimes, Mitsuo felt so much older than thirteen. Being a chūnin at thirteen was no easy feat, and neither was ANBU- not that he’d accepted the position.

He knew it would be forever open, an invitation to the highest order could never be closed. He refused to accept the position while Naruto wasn’t in the Academy, because he couldn’t leave his brother to be alone for hours upon hours, even if he was an independent seven-year-old. It was only a year from now when the two of them would join the Academy, and Mitsuo was looking forward to it.

The image of Naruto, whirling around, throwing kicks and punches and basic jutsu left and right. He was already looking forwards to it, thanks partially to the introductory classes he’d done- which had been difficult to get him to sit through. It was partially his fault too, for Naruto’s excitement when he’d taught him the simplest thing he could- escaping ropes. 

Yeah, it was nothing glamorous, but it had served his brother well, the very few times he’d gotten caught pranking. Which, like he’d said, was a rare feat in itself, because he somehow managed to dodge _ANBU-_ and he didn’t mean Itachi, Shisui and Dog, either. ANBU who had no preferences against him whatsoever. _I must be doing something right if he’s my polar opposite._ There was a sudden thump on the ground, and out of habit, his kunai was in his hand, throwing several shuriken and swivelling in a defensive position, seeing Itachi in his living room, in full ANBU gear.

That wasn’t unusual apart from the stressed posture he had, Sharingan visible in the eyeholes of his mask. He relaxed his position slightly- still resting lightly on the tips of his toes, shoulders rigid, face tormented- pocketing his kunai as he cast his eyes towards the bedroom, where Naruto and Sasuke were still playing, undisturbed.

“It’s Shisui.”

Itachi breathed out, more uncontrolled then he’d ever seen his friend. Mitsuo’s eyes narrowed almost immediately, turning off the stove in one quick moment before Mitsuo’s form stiffened, swallowing as he looked at Itachi. Various scenarios were running through his mind as he made a step to follow Itachi, calling out to their brothers to stay put.

_Shisui. Dead. Shisui, crippled. Shisui, blinded. Shisui, gone rogue._ No matter what he knew about his brother, every scenario was a likely one. He followed after Itachi, jumping from building to building, feet barely staying in contact with the tiles for longer than a second. They ran like the wind, swift and unrepentant, Mitsuo knowing where they were going- the cliffs outside of Konoha, above the river. _But why?_

“What’s happened?”

“Danzō took his eye.”

It took Mitsuo a few seconds to come to terms with that. _An eye? Singular? His Mangekyō? Why? Why only one? It must have been unwilling otherwise we wouldn’t be in such a rush to get to him. And Shisui is no traitor of the village- he loves Konoha as much as he loves his clan, loves me and Itachi._ He gritted his teeth as he continued leaping from building to building, following the silent shadow that was Itachi, fists curling.

And more so- Shimura Danzō? The councilman? The Sandaime’s right-hand man? Why did _he_ want Shisui’s eyes- well, for anything other than power, of course. He should have been striving for peace, to reduce poverty and injustice. Mitsuo had never really liked him- the man was _far too encouraging_ of the idea of trying to turn the two of them into weapons, and had been the head advocate for adopting Naruto and separating the two brothers, so Mitsuo could never like him for that- but he hadn’t expected him of _treason._

_I already hold no love for the village, but why in the ever-loving hell would he take Shisui’s eye, the only foreseeable way to avoid war? What could have gotten the Hokage to agree with it?_ His thoughts stumbled to a halt, even as his feet continued to run. _What if the Hokage didn’t sanction it? What does it mean then?_

“Only one? Is he alright?”

The question was a stupid one. Normally, Mitsuo was cool and collected in any situation, but the minute one of his friends were in danger, a lot of his calm attitude was left behind. Itachi shook his head, and despite the ANBU roaming, and their all but silent exit, nobody cast an eye. Everything was _normal,_ not as if a large violation of Shisui’s person had been committed. Not only did the violation really upset- to put mildly- Mitsuo, but he was aware of the consequences.

If an Uchiha, especially _Shisui-_ the Uchiha’s pride considering his status of the Mangekyō and unique skill-set- then it was even more likely that an uprising was going to happen. They were _not_ going to forgive this transgression- a failure to protect them on the Hokage’s part.

“Shisui escaped before he could get the other one. But he’s hurt- he told me to get you and head to the cliffs.”

They cleared the wall surrounding Konoha with ease, landing on the ground with chakra-infused knees. They continued with their sprint undeterred, each one knowing the route off-hand: of course, they would, because it all began and ended at the cliffs, didn’t it. They all liked it for different reasons- Mitsuo’s was that it was away from the stigma of the village, the hatred that he faced day to day.

Shisui liked it because of the freedom that it provided him- nothing from ANBU haunted him or stalked him there. And Itachi liked it because the Uchiha Clan couldn’t control him, twist him and use him as a weapon, just like the Hokage couldn’t. He was just himself, the chance to relax and breath in fresh hair. They remained in silence as they came to a halt, where Uchiha Shisui was sat, cross-legged, near the cliff edge like they had done so many times before. He turned to face them, and the sight of the one-eyed Shisui was so much worse than he could have anticipated.

It was as if it had been plucked, blood running down the corners of his empty eye-socket, shadows underneath tainted red. His other eye was still whirling with the pinwheel of the Mangekyō, blazing red and angry like the blood seeping out of his other one.

“Come on, I don’t look _that_ bad do I, Mitsuo? You’re supposed to be the ‘big scary Jinchūriki.’”

The joke was no doubt supposed to cheer them up, but it fell flat fairly abruptly. Itachi and Mitsuo remained somewhat frozen in shock as Shisui stood up, without even a flinch of pain. Some of his outfit was torn up, slashes and gashes darting around, his belt suspiciously empty of any of his tools. Mitsuo reached out, wanting to do _something_ to help his friend, but found his repertoire useless in this situation. _What could he do to fix something that was stolen, not hurt?_

“It doesn’t hurt you two. Come on, stop with the long faces.”

It did the trick somewhat, surprised laughter startling them out of their shock. His headband despite his bloody appearance looked untouched, neat and tidy, his tantō still in its holster. Shisui looked at them with an unreadable expression, his black shirt looking dense with blood. He blinked his eyes- eye- appearing to look at his two proclaimed brothers in a whole new light.

“I always said our bloodline would get us into trouble, especially concerning how it must be unlocked. Only now, it’s my eyes… threatening the peace between Konoha and the Clan. That’s why… I want you to have it, Itachi. My last gift to you- my Mangekyō.”

They went right back to their shocked expressions, the normally schooled expressions of the two- wide open in a gasp of shock. Shisui smiled again, a grin on his face as he placed his hand up to his remaining eye, before hesitating, bringing it back down again. He wanted to see his friends before he lost his sight.

“I wish I had something to give you Mitsuo- I’d give you my other eye, but Danzō took that option from me. I’d give you my tantō but… well, it’ll have to die with me.”

“Die… _?_ I know that you’re hurt, but it doesn’t look bad enough to die from.”

Mitsuo remarked, as Shisui cast his eyes to the cliff and then back to the two of them. The implied significance in that stare was enough for Itachi to put two plus two together, shaking his head, speaking for the first time since they arrived. His own Sharingan had activated in his emotional state, as the Ryo dropped in front of Mitsuo, swallowing, tears-like-rain forming at the crooks of his eyes.

Mitsuo knew exactly what Shisui was referencing, but he was hoping his faux show of innocence was enough to dissuade him from what was going to happen- what he _could not_ let happen again. Everything slipped out of his hands, and there was nothing to do to stop it- and the lack of control frustrated him.

“You _can’t_ Shisui! There’s another way!”

“We can tell them it was Danzō! He’ll be jailed, you’ll be safe.”

He cried out for the first time in years, tears escaping their prison, trying to convince Shisui against the argument. The last time tears had fallen like this, he had been six years old, having to be put to sleep with the use of a medical jutsu, so he could be dragged away from his parents’ bodies, limp and unbreathing. Mitsuo had never dealt with a loss like this before, and though it was in every ninja’s training, like everyone, he hoped he’d never had to utilise it.

He’d seen death before of course, the spirit of it hiding behind his father, looming over all of those who he had to kill on missions. He’d seen the mirror image of it haunting him in his stomach, God knows how many deaths were sticking to his claws. Shisui smiled lazily like nothing was about to happen, but his smile was sadly almost, even as his Mangekyō continued to spin, like the countdown on a clock.

“You can’t honestly believe that Mitsuo. I know you don’t. They’ll keep on coming- until I either lose my other eye, or the war we’ve been trying to prevent comes around. Besides, my word over a village elder, especially one the Hokage favours? It’s no contest.”

“We could hide your eye, guard it. We could destroy it- we could do _something_ that doesn’t involve your death!”

He was getting emotional now, and he knew it. For all that Mitsuo was a hardened chūnin, prodigy next to Itachi, and son of the Fourth and the Red Hot Habenero, he was still a child, thirteen years old. The thought that he was losing Shisui, one of his closest friends, was one that wouldn’t register in his mind. He didn’t want to accept it, but he was forced to.

“Danzō has one eye already. He can use that one to find the other. They are linked through the holder, across the world.”

Itachi told Mitsuo solemnly, wiping at his eyes roughly. Shisui nodded in agreement, rolling his shoulders as his form slumped with his exhale of breath. Mitsuo didn’t want to let go of Shisui, the feeling of hopelessness overtaking him for the second time in his thirteen years of life. It had him in its grip, unrelenting and unceasing, threatening to drown him with emotion. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Shisui, to stop him from walking to his death.

“They are. The only thing that can battle Kotoamatsukami is Kotoamatsukami itself: I know there will be a day where one of you will need that power. I don’t want to die- but my death will stop arguments over my eyes and weaken the clan’s resolve- I hope.”

“You’re basing this on a gamble?”

Shisui looked at him, and at Itachi, who had gone quiet, observing yet again, having given up on being subtle with his tears, with them flooding down his face just like Mitsuo’s own. In front of one another, they could be emotional, could be afraid. They could express all those emotions that they couldn’t in the face of a mission. This was the few places where Mitsuo would cry, to allow himself to let his guard down enough to.

“You’re the analytical one, Mitsuo. I’m the empathetic one: I refuse to be used as a weapon on either side, for they are both in the wrong.”

The sun began to set in front of them, with them basking in its glow for the briefest of moments. Mitsuo wiped away more tears from his eyes, red and puffy, and Itachi looked just the same. His blue eyes shined like diamonds in the sky, and Itachi’s glistened like the moss-covered edges of a cave. Despite his eye still spinning with the Mangekyō, the eye-socket around it was puffed up, irritated and aflame, the tears causing the blood to streak further down his face.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my decision.”

All of a sudden, trembles overtook Mitsuo’s form, and he couldn’t control them. It was as if he was a genin all over again, brand new and still wet around the ears, tentatively afraid of his first mission. But now, he was afraid of losing Shisui, something he couldn’t control. Someone he had grown to love but was going to lose. Shisui placed his hand up to his eye, removing it without much fanfare.

He moved forwards, hands outstretched with the eye in the palm of his hand, as Itachi summoned a crow, with it resting on his arm. Without any words, he accepted the eye and placed it into the crow before dismissing it, thus protecting the Mangekyō. Shisui looked eerie with no eyes, unnerving and sickening, but they all brought one another close into a hug, as Itachi and Mitsuo stood side by side, helplessly watching as Shisui waved a small goodbye, before walking off the cliff, unseeing as his friends cried between themselves.

It was anticlimactic, in a way. His mind expected something else to cause Shisui’s death because after all, he was _Shisui of the Body Flicker._ A wayward jutsu, when he was just too old and just too slow. Nobody expected death to take such a prodigy: and Mitsuo had not expected to lose his friend. Shisui stepped off just like he would a building, but this time, there was no cheeky shunshin away, and he watched the body- no, _Shisui-_ fall.

Between the three of them, they could have come up with another solution. Destroying his eyes, for one. There were many _other_ potential solutions, and none included his _friend walking off a cliff to his death._ But, as Mitsuo curled his fists, feeling a sense of _anger and loss,_ his body very slightly trembling before he fought it back down, remaining emotionless on the outside, he knew there would have been no talking Shisui out of it.

Maybe, just maybe, Shisui would rather die than see his clan go down a road he could not stand. And maybe, he was just selfish enough to leave Mitsuo and Itachi behind to deal with the consequences, knowing they were too bound by their brothers to even consider the same thing.

Long after Shisui’s body had disappeared under the waves, the two friends-like-brothers stared at the sun until they saw sunspots, mourning in silence the loss of their friend. Neither of them noticed when it began to rain, washing away the blood on their hands, drenching them. Neither of them noticed when Itachi’s eyes became Sharingan red, the three tomoe swirling until they became three spiralling curves around the pupil- a Mangekyō.

All they could care about was their friend Shisui, who had made the greatest sacrifice of them all, unafraid of giving his life to make life better in the long run. The blood did not wash off their hands, because it would always be there, a stark reminder of the blood spilt to peace, the blood that was drained from those they loved. Shisui’s final words whispered around in the wind as they stared out into space, allowing themselves the briefest flicker of emotion, knowing that they could not display it in the eyes of a village that distrusted them both:

“And remember, Itachi, Mitsuo. You're my best friends and the only ones I can count on… Protect not the village… not the Uchiha name. Protect those _behind_ the names. They are far more important- homes can be rebuilt, clans can be rebuilt. But lives? They are so much harder to fix. There are no innocents in war, just those who are caught in the middle.”

The two boys stood on the cliffside for hours, arms wrapped around the other, trying to give the other enough comfort to stop the tears slowly falling. They had seen loss, had lost people, had killed people, but that did not change the fact that it hurt more every _single time._ They tried to gain comfort with the other, sharing a quiet, tentative kind of emotion that was truly understood by brothers. And while their lives were worlds apart, there were things that they could both share in.

Shinobi were not meant to exhibit emotions openly: and if the Kyūbi Jinchūriki was seen weeping for a member of the Uchiha Clan, then it did not matter what the true circumstances were- it would lend credence to the suspicion that the Uchiha had controlled the Kyūbi into the massacre that had taken his father’s life.

It was ironic, Mitsuo found, that in their game of attrition for peace, the Uchiha Clan were slowly killing their most skilled members; and only further segregating themselves from the village.

His eyes fixed on the cliff, and another piece of his heart chipped away, never to be repaired. _I was finally allowing myself to open up a little, to have someone that did not treat me as the Jinchūriki- and they were ripped away from me again._ His eyes were blank, unrevealing of the anger he felt, the feeling of loss that shattered him wholly and completely. _I am beginning to think that I shouldn’t have close acquaintances: it hurts all the more in the end._

Even a broken kunai could only be repaired so many times before it became irreparable.


	14. The Pinwheel Stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course, I never said that it was a quick process for me to get my head out of my ass, and my mental state didn’t truly deteriorate until after Shisui’s funeral- where I had to take both Naruto and Sasuke to the funeral because Itachi himself was banned. Of course, there had been no verbal dismissal of Itachi’s attendance, but he’d been forced to watch from the distance. Itachi couldn’t even mourn his best friend properly- having to do it from behind the mask of betrayal and a clan that no longer loved him. And Itachi was fast approaching what I was: no family but his brother. And that was a fate that I wouldn’t wish on anyone because as much as I loved my brother, nothing was worse than being neglected by your own kin.”

The funeral had been set for a few days after the letter was found, and a few days after they had been searching in vain for the body. Shisui had never said where he was going to kill himself, knowing that they would stop him if so- and they had no idea where his body could possibly be. Neither Mitsuo nor Itachi told them where they had been when it had taken place, to stop any potential recovery of Shisui’s body and to keep the place sacred.

Or as sacred as it could be, considering the lack of any kind of marker or acknowledgement that this was the place where Uchiha Shisui died. Because there was no body, it was closed casket, and it was as if every war was put aside for the funeral. But Mitsuo wasn’t that naive, and he didn’t have to have Itachi tell him that the Uchiha’s were mad- it was evident from the way they talked, the way they walked, the way the ghost of the Sharingan simmered beneath black eyes, just _waiting_ for a target.

Rumours ran around the village of anger from the clan, that their strongest member had died, and that they believed it had been done by Itachi. That Itachi had shoved his best friend off the cliff, rather than it being a suicide like Shisui’s note had implied. The note had reportedly been short and brief, addressing the fact that he’d wanted to abandon the idea of a coup, and just wanted everyone to be safe.

Well, that was the rumoured note. What it actually said was debatable, because neither he nor Itachi had seen it, and little bits of information were lost as it travelled between person to person.

Of course, Shisui’s supposed loyalty to the clan had meant that everyone had believed that he could never commit suicide, not to stop the coup. Which meant that Itachi took the blame, with the clan ignoring how much Itachi was devastated. The only blessing had been that Shisui’s eye was with one of Itachi’s crows, meaning the clan assumed the eye had been destroyed when Shisui had died.

Danzo couldn’t tell them otherwise without incriminating himself, and the fact that Itachi hadn’t had it transplanted meant that he couldn’t be _definitely_ proven to have caused Shisui’s death. Had it been 100% clear, with irrefutable evidence, that Itachi had killed his best friend, then Itachi would be dead by now, by the Uchiha Clan’s hands.

He’d wanted to stand up for his friend, to go to the Hokage and protest Itachi’s innocence as a witness, but his friend had refused to let him. Itachi- and Shisui before his death- had been creating a shroud for the two Uzumaki’s, trying to protect them from the Uchiha clan. Their status as Jinchūriki made them valuable to Konoha and the Uchiha’s, because if the Fox was released, both halves, then the Uchiha's were the only ones that could control it, with the power of their Kekkei Genkai. 

Neither of them had told Mitsuo exactly what they were doing, but he was grateful nonetheless: that was all Mitsuo was trying to do. Get through life, and get Naruto through it to the best of his ability. If Mitsuo went to the Hokage to defend Itachi, then all his hard work would be down the drain- because not only would he be considered an unreliable witness, but the Uchiha clan would double their attempts to get hold of the Fox.

“Do I look okay, Nii-san?”

Naruto asked, from where he was fussing with his funeral outfit. To his credit, Naruto had been extremely patient, not complaining that it wasn’t orange. If there was any seven-year-old child who knew more about death, it was Naruto. When he and Itachi had informed the two brothers of Shisui’s passing, they’d both shown different signs.

Naruto started bawling loudly, clinging to Mitsuo like a monkey, burrowing his face in his stomach, howling. Sobs wracked his form devastatingly, shaking uncontrollably, mumbling about Shisui-chan. Sasuke’s reaction had been completely different, completely shutting down, one stray tear escaping before he politely excused himself to Naruto’s room, where he didn’t emerge.

Naruto had been the one to go in after him, but he hadn’t emerged for a while either, and the two of them didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. Mitsuo straightened up the slightly-too-big cloak, tying it off around his neck. On the front, on the shoulder, there was an Uzumaki swirl, although it’s normal pinkish-red colour more tempered and darker, to fit in with the dark aspect of the cloak.

Naruto’s hair stuck up and out of the hood on the cloak, but Mitsuo smudged the hair down with the palm of his hand. He wore black boots to hide his toes, and seamless gloves to hide his hands, so that the only bare skin that was visible was that of his face, and even that was overshadowed.

“You look fine, _Otōto_.”

Mitsuo moved over to Sasuke’s side, where the clan heir was adjusting his own cloak, dark eyes overshadowed. He looked neat and tidy, and where Naruto’s cloak had the Uzumaki swirl on it, Sasuke’s had the Uchiha clan symbol on it. And where Naruto’s cloak was black, Sasuke’s was closer to a dark navy.

“You ready to go Sasuke?”

The boy nodded stiffly, tugging his hood over his head to hide his face. Mitsuo adjusted his own cloak, glancing at the clock, before sighing. He’d be saying goodbye to Shisui for the very last time here, and as much as he wished that he could go up to the casket and say his own goodbyes, only family were allowed to do that.

The reason that Sasuke was going with them and not with Itachi, was that Itachi wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral because of the clans' suspicion towards him. If he went, no matter how honest the intentions, somebody would get mad, and it could possibly escalate beyond what they could control.

“Come on then.”

He said to the two boys quietly, as they fell into step beside him, Naruto holding onto Mitsuo’s hand as they exited their apartment, locking it up behind them. Mitsuo didn’t speak much to either child, sighing as he mentally ran through his memories with Shisui, pushing them aside until he could think about it by himself. _I’ll try and live by your words Shisui. I’ll hold them close and cherish them like a present- because that’s what they are to me._

* * *

Watching from a distance was difficult for Mitsuo. He wanted nothing more than to go up to the casket, despite knowing it was empty, and say goodbye to his friend. Rationally, he knew that the casket was not Shisui. It simply wasn’t. His friend was somewhere along the Naka River, body lost to time, or at the very least, to the depths of the river.

But despite the rational thought in his brain, he couldn’t separate the events. The box _was_ Shisui, despite it definitely not being him. The rain was coming down heavily, an oddity for Konoha. It was as if the very sky was weeping for Shisui. His devotion to the village and his clan was a strong one, but despite all that, he wanted to do the best thing for everyone.

Like he said, names weren’t important- _innocents_ were. He was the best example of not judging a book by its cover, or by their upbringing or background. Mitsuo wished more people were like Shisui, but it was a fact of life that they would judge and that they were scared of things they couldn’t understand or control.

“Mitsuo.”

Sasuke asked in his quiet voice, sad with eyes downcast. For someone who had developed the habit of dealing with his emotions by himself, he was open at the minute. If there was a place for emotions to be bared to the open, it was a funeral. Where they could remember the person for who they were, who they had been. Mitsuo couldn’t remember much of his parents' funeral. It was as if there was a block on his memory of that specific day, blotted out just barely out of reach.

What he did remember was very little, but he remembered the streets being packed as they marched to where they were buried, the cemetery. He and Naruto, who had only been a month and a half old, had been forced back from the main procession, cast away as a bunch of ragtag orphans. Even then, his name of Namikaze had been stripped, replaced with Uzumaki.

Mitsuo knew though that they were not mourning Namikaze Minato or Uzumaki Kushina: they were mourning the figures they had been. The Yondaime and his wife. But not Minato and Kushina. The only ones who were mourning his parents properly were the Uchiha’s, specifically, Mikoto.

The very same Mikoto who was distracting her husband from the fact that his youngest was currently with the eldest Jinchūriki, and not with his parents. “ _He needs a friend more then he needs me right now.”_ Was the message he’d gotten, and it wasn’t easy to tell whether she meant Itachi or Sasuke.

“Why isn’t Itachi here?”

Itachi was in fact at the funeral, not that most people noticed. He was ANBU for the event, being discretely allocated an overhead perch that was close enough to see, but not close enough to be seen. If he was shown there so publicly, it had serious repercussions beyond those of Shisui’s death. Despite his own resentment towards many of the Uchiha clan, he knew the seriousness of family and wasn’t about to poison Sasuke against his clan.

And, Sasuke thought the _world_ of his clan, of his _Okāsan,_ his _Otōsan._ The person he loved most was his brother, of course, and Sasuke was blissfully unaware of how much his clan distrusted his brother. All of that meant he had to choose his next words very carefully, with him wishing that he had his brother’s natural icebreaker charms. But unfortunately, Naruto was looking up at him with the same expectant eyes. Curious but sad, soft but gentle. Empathic in more ways than could ever be.

“Some people… aren’t happy with your brother at the minute. He didn’t want to cause a fight on Shisui’s day, so he’s here, just hidden.”

Sasuke looked like he wanted to press, ever inquisitive, but they were forced to hush as Shisui was given the final blessings of an Uchiha, as the casket was lowered into the ground, where it would rest forever undisturbed. The wind curled around them like a cold embrace, lashing at their skin as they stood watching the ceremony, and it was impossible to tell their tears from the falling raindrops.

* * *

When you were a shinobi, you did not get long to grieve, especially if it was not a blood relative who died. If they were in peacetime, like they were now, then they usually got a week to mourn before they were placed on active duty. Obviously, if they were not in peacetime, then you’d get no time at all. Either way, that luxury, that right, wasn’t applied to Mitsuo, like a host of other things.

It was the _curse_ of being a Jinchūriki. Mitsuo didn’t mind, because he’d learnt not to, and he was the kind of person who would rather keep moving so he didn’t have to think about it. That meant that he’d not even had a day off to grieve his best friend, his brother, before he’d been summoned to the Hokage’s office, told to appear with full combat gear.

It was rare for anyone to be summoned to the Hokage’s office, even those with the Kyūbi in them. So, he found himself standing in the office, form straight to attention, Itachi standing next to him. And he did mean _Itachi,_ not Crow. The two identities were as separate as Shisui and Itachi, and the fact that Itachi was there meant something big.

“Sir.”

Mitsuo greeted politely, as obedient as ever. Hiruzen nodded at the two of them, hands clasped together in a scholarly pose. Sometimes, it was difficult to remember that the Third had been Hokage before his father, older then most people realised. And while that age made him wise in certain details, it also made him blind in others.

Everyone had their own weakness, but Mitsuo didn’t know his. It wasn’t that he believed himself perfect or anything- but more often than not, one was blind to their own faults. Hiruzen waved away the ANBU, who disappeared from the room, leaving the two of them standing there, wondering why they had been summoned.

“I have a mission for you.”

They both looked at them, with mirror blank expressions. Mitsuo’s emotions were kept under a tight lock and key, unreflective in his blue eyes. If his eyes were cold, his emotions frigid and secret, then Naruto’s were the opposite, his eyes warm and inviting, his emotions an open book to read. That could either be a blessing or a curse in being a shinobi- depending on how impulsive you were.

Neither Itachi nor Mitsuo commented as Hiruzen went on to explain the job he was giving to the two of them, and they both didn’t allow themselves to comment. In a way, the three of them had anticipated this- and they knew it was a matter of time before something irreversible happened.

* * *

It was an observation mission, working the areas that the two of them were best in. Mitsuo, the village, and Itachi, his clan. Though Itachi had said that he’d been compromised, Hiruzen had kept him in there anyway, citing clan loyalty. It was almost as if the issue of Shisui had been completely glossed over, and the consequences that came with his death irrelevant, which they weren’t.

That was also ignoring the fact that Mitsuo was not well-liked in the village. It was true that people forgot about him most times, speaking secrets they should have not in his presence, but those secrets were inconsequential ones. Secrets like “ _Did you hear that so-and-so had an affair with so-and-so?”_ or “ _I heard that Lord Third’s grandson can already meld chakra.”_

Granted, that last one was more of a rumour than a secret and wasn’t strictly true. Sarutobi Konohamaru was three years old, and couldn’t do much of anything besides babble nearly-coherent sentences adorably, blinking baby blue eyes. He was cute, Mitsuo admitted, with his light dusting of brown hair, already jagged in some areas.

With the faintest blue marks on his cheeks that oddly reminded Mitsuo of his own whisker birthmarks, he looked like he would become a boy that everyone would like. Mitsuo, once and only once, had seen the boy in the Hokage Tower, crawling around Hiruzen’s arms while Hiruzen looked slightly stressed. The boy had been crying loudly, only six months or so old at the time, and was screaming loud enough to be heard from the ground floor.

Mitsuo had only been in the office that day to receive a mission that he’d been told about, a reconnaissance mission that would take a few days before he’d be home. Hiruzen had apologised, embarrassed almost, explaining that Konohamaru’s parents were away, and he was left with his grandfather. Having a knack with babies, he’d carefully held Konohamaru- with the Third’s permission, he wasn’t asking to get attacked by highly trained ANBU- and rocked him.

And despite the foreign touch, Konohamaru had settled right down to sleep, and Mitsuo had placed the baby in his crib, rocking it slightly. The look on the Third Hokage’s face had been priceless, and for a moment, Mitsuo really wondered if he had been a father. The last he’d seen of Konohamaru recently, had been that of a picture resting on the Third’s desk, and despite the two and a half years that had passed, he remained much the same.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walked the streets like he usually did, and instead of ignoring the civilian’s murmurs about him, he listened to them intently- maybe he could find something out that would help them all. But they were civilians, not shinobi, not Uchiha- what use would they be if the Uchiha wanted a coup d’etat? What would they know?

Still, despite not quite understanding what he was supposed to be on the lookout for, he walked to the market to continue the guise of buying some overpriced groceries- wary of the tension of the village, and knowing he was walking the line of peace. And that line was very thin indeed.

Sometime after Shisui’s funeral, where they weren’t being observed and could slip away, they ascended to the cliffs once more, he and Itachi. They didn’t speak a word as they sat atop the peak, heads bowed in respect. They sowed the seeds of a pinwheel flower so that when it could grow and spin with the wind undangered, it could be free like the life that never got to be lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support! I hope you enjoyed it!


	15. The Second Time Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For a while, I drifted. Doing whatever missions came my way, tricking myself into thinking that it was for the benefit of Naruto. I pushed down the feeling of grief, pushing myself to my limits, barely spending any time in the village. Maybe that was why I was doing it; not because of my grief, but because I no longer wanted to stay in the village, could no longer bear it. But was that the same thing in the end?”

It had been a matter of months since Shisui’s death, and while the gaping hole in his heart got easier to deal with, it was never going to be filled. He’d been throwing himself into missions that he’d been giving it his best, going on ones that lasted several weeks, staying home for a month, then going on some more. Naruto had been getting clingier and clingier every time he left, and it had gotten to the point where even Itachi had taken him aside in the attempt to get him to stay longer.

“It’s not good for you to keep staying away for long periods of time, Mitsuo.”

Mitsuo turned to look at him with a neutral look from where he was sitting, sharpening his kunai. The three points were reflecting the light, and the hilt held a few gouges from where it had met another blade. He sighed, placing the blade down and swapping to his shuriken, carving the curved star so that the slightest prick drew beads of blood.

“It keeps Naruto from seeing me upset.”

“You think he hasn’t already noticed? That excuse isn’t going to fly with me Mitsuo.”

Itachi told him bluntly, pointing out the truth in the statement. Naruto wasn’t stupid nor was he blind, and in fact, was the entire reason he was staging this endeavour. Mitsuo was content to throw himself down an unending hole to wallow alone, so his brother wouldn’t worry, but by doing that, Naruto was only worrying more. There was a reason why he clung to Mitsuo now, despite never doing it before- he could see that he was flailing, with nowhere to grab onto.

“There’s not enough money. I’m trying to earn more so we can make improvements to the apartment.”

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on. We both know that you’ve been saving money for improvements, and we both know you’ve got enough to comfortably feed yourselves for a few months. What you’re trying to do is not think.”

The words were so true that Mitsuo was reluctant to admit it. He placed his shuriken down, pulling his hitai-ate off from his head. His hair flopped down now that nothing was propping it up, and from where it laid, his black hitai-ate shining. Shining like Shisui never would.

Mitsuo’s hands curled around it, tugging at the fabric before Itachi caught his hands, pressing them down into the table before he could do any long-lasting damage. Mitsuo bit down on his tongue before he answered, his voice soft and barely a whisper, tinted with anger.

“Every time I think about him, I hate the village just a little bit more. Shisui was another thing I had taken away from me, so if I don’t have to think about him, I’m less likely to go on a rampage!”

The fact that Mitsuo was getting angry was both a relief and a worry. It was worrying because Mitsuo never let his anger out openly. He was the epitome of a sponge: he would absorb everything, good or bad, and take it and take it, never stopping.

It was the same with his emotions, except he’d push all his negative emotions into the sponge. But eventually, over time, that sponge was going to let things trickle out until it eventually tore. At least with him bursting out like this, he was venting, because Mitsuo wasn’t the kind of person to let anyone know what he was feeling unless he couldn’t control himself.

Going on so many missions was counter-intuitive to his goal of protecting but not sheltering his brother. But those missions were a distraction- not from Naruto, but from the grief inside. He could not look at the places where he used to walk with Itachi and Shisui, and he couldn’t mask his emotions enough to hide the seething hatred he had for the village.

To have such thoughts was treasonous, and he refused to give them an opportunity to throw him out, or worse, jailed. While he was a skilled chūnin, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be replaced- after all, as a direct result of him being so naturally skilled, they had higher expectations of his brother. It was unfair, but just like he couldn’t change how the village thought about the lair of brothers, he couldn’t change the expectations placed upon them.

“So that’s what this is about. The Fox and the Village. The Village and the Fox. You need to have more confidence in yourself Mitsuo- the Fox hasn’t emerged in two years, and before that, he hadn’t appeared since the attack.”

“That could easily change! You saw how easy it was for him to come out!”

Mitsuo seemed to think that he was expected to be perfect. What had given him that impression, Itachi could only guess. The only person who held him up to high standards was Mitsuo himself, and sometimes he set expectations ridiculously high.

It sounded weird to say almost, but he was afraid of the littlest slip of control, like one failed wind style or one failed mission meant he himself was a failure. It was, in fact, not easy, for the Fox to come out- the seal that the Fourth had put on his son hadn’t been a lightweight one.

“I did- but I also saw how you had to be put in an inescapable situation for it to come out. You’ve spent the last seven years of your life keeping it away from the village- you’re not going to fail now.”

“How can you have so much faith in me? Everyone around me either hates me or gets close enough to die! Soon enough, you’ll die too, leaving me alone with Naruto!”

Itachi crossed his arms, giving Mitsuo as strong as a look as he could, that was trying to display how much of an idiot his brother was being. While the correlation made no logical sense to Itachi, he could empathise in a way with Mitsuo- because what he said was true in a way. Many people hated him for what was within him, and those who loved him died. Minato, Kushina. Now Shisui, just at thirteen years of age. Mitsuo was terrified of losing people, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

“I have so much faith in you because I know you Mitsuo. You would never willingly destroy the village that your father loved, that Naruto loves. I know you- and you are better then you think. You are the son of the Yondaime, and if anyone could control the Fox, it’s you and Naruto.”

“You know what they say! Power corrupts- the last thing I want to do is lash out on someone who doesn’t deserve it! Just one taste of power leads to someone wanting more!”

There was very real fear within Mitsuo’s voice. Something that couldn’t be faked, something he didn’t want to admit, something he kept hidden deep inside. Maybe Mitsuo’s true fear wasn’t losing someone- it was the fear of too much power. It would make sense- everyone he knew either died because of power they had or killed by people who wanted power. Danzō wanted Shisui’s eyes, so he died. Someone wanted the power of the Nine-Tailed Fox, so his parents died. Those suspicions… it was certainly enough to form a fear.

“If that was true 100% of the time, Mitsuo, then there would be no Kages, would there? The world would be one ball of smoking ash because we would have annihilated one another. You bottling up your emotions is going to make it worse for you in the long run- and then you will become a ticking time bomb- and that’s the last thing you want, isn’t it?”

Mitsuo looked away, his hands flattening against the table, tears falling silently against the table, running through the grooves in the wood. It almost seemed to bow with the realisation of Mitsuo’s emotions, the wood cracking into many different routes. Itachi looked at him with an emotion close to sympathy as he passed Mitsuo his hitai-ate, but not before making him promise.

“After this, no more missions. You need to mourn, not work yourself into non-existence.”

“One more mission.”

He acquiesced, knowing that if he didn’t agree, Itachi would make sure he’d stay there, even if he had to tie him to a tree and keep him under lock and key. He accepted his hitai-ate and tied it behind his head again, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.

“Then I’ll stay and be the big brother I haven’t been lately.”

* * *

The last mission was simple in theory. It was an information recovery mission, an important missive that contained information important to the Hokage. He didn’t know what was in it, but frankly, it didn’t matter. He just had to return it to the Hokage Tower and that was him on a break. Simple, really. But nothing ever went simply, and something unnerved Mitsuo.

_I’m expendable, and it’s an easy lie to swallow that they didn’t want a Jinchūriki within their village. If they already have Naruto, who could be so easy to manipulate, then why am I needed? Apart from the fact that two halves of the fox are more powerful than one- but one is consequently easier to control than the two together._

The hairs on his neck were raised, his instincts screaming at him that something wasn’t quite right. He was halfway to Almokura, where the missive reportedly was. It was just south of Sunagakure, on the coastal side of the Land of Wind, the kind of place you’d go to avoid any kind of conflict. Few shinobi came from there thanks to their status as a civilian village, but though rare, it did happen.

This was his last mission, and consequently, his shortest. Not his _last last_ mission, but his last one before he adhered to his promise and remained in Konoha. Though most missions were run with a team, Mitsuo knew he was sent out on ones where they either weren’t viable, or they wanted someone they could deny the existence of such shinobi.

The next plan was to deal with Danzō, something that the two of them had been carefully planning. He didn’t mean deal with as in killing him by himself, nor did he mean killing him with Itachi. No, they were going to use _subterfuge._ They were going to get information to try and see what he was doing and bring it to the Hokage, who would be unable to deny such irrefutable proof. In the event that Danzō just laid by, and got away with it- well, they’d dream up another plan.

Danzō wanted Shisui’s eyes for some reason, and they didn’t know why- but they were going to find out. If someone wanted that kind of power that they’d go to illicit means to get it, then they didn’t deserve those eyes.

The forests of Konoha quickly shifted into the warm sands of Suna, burning beneath the soles of his shoes. It was quiet out here, the only person around- that wasn’t quite right. Though there was nobody visibly around him, there was a sudden and unsettling feeling of chakra. Everything was too sharp, now that he focused, and the heat on the soles of his feet was uneven. It was focused on some points and unfocused on others, the distribution uneven. This wasn’t Wind country, it was a-

“Kai!”

The illusion faded away as he flared his chakra, everything returning to how it should have been. It was the edge of Fire and Wind, where earthy dirt changed to solid stone, and life-filled trees turned into leafless branches. He’d only been in it a matter of seconds, because he had a natural resistance to it, and had always been quick at recognising them.

His resistance to genjutsu was likely something he should thank the Fox for- not that he ever would.

But those few seconds were all it took for fifty men to surround him, each of them wielding their own weapons. The fact that none of them had attacked him yet in the seconds he’d been in the genjutsu meant it was highly probable that it wasn’t an attempt for him to be killed. Which was odd, considering that the men and women surrounding him were a combination of missing-nin and mercenaries.

They were from all around the world: Wind, Lightning, Earth and Water. Each symbol was burnt in his mind like a memory of the darkest kinds, and he dropped into a defensive stance, wary of the group. He wasn’t like his father who could wipe out hundreds in the blink of an eye, teleporting from place to place- he was above average in skill-level for a chūnin- but he couldn’t take fifty on one. 

And they didn’t look like they were up for a peaceful conversation, as without a single word or provocation, they lunged towards him. Immediately, as he dodged out of the way of several kunai strikes and thrown shuriken, he tried to find a way out. He flexed his chakra, letting it wash over them and stagger his opposition- a trick that would work only once.

He could sense many chakra signatures, but it was highly inaccurate when it came to determining who, nature, and things like that. And it only reached so far- meaning if there were more incoming, he wouldn’t know until they were on top of him. _I need to clear a path- let’s hope this works. Tiger. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger._

_“Fire Style: Goukakyuu Renpatsu!” (Great Fireball Barrage)  
_

He raised his hands to his lips, curling it into a blowhole as he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air. He exhaled in short sharp bursts in a variety of the infamous Uchiha Clan technique. Small fireballs emerged from his mouth, greedily sucking in air as they fanned out, clearing the path slightly as they were forced to jump away from the searing heat.

It would never be as strong as someone with a fire nature, but he jumped into the gap it provided, switching his stance to offensive and beginning a whirlwind of attacks. He ducked under the smooth sail of a blade, arching backwards, swapping his kunai to his left hand to swipe below the knees of one shinobi. Flipping backwards, he let them over balance themselves ever so slightly, swapping his grip as he turned, catching and consequently deflecting the next blade that came sailing his way.

_“Earth Style: Drone.”_

There were several cries of that, meaning there were several people with the ability to use the earth chakra nature. Rocks began to levitate, bursting out of the sand and dirt with ease, before they all spun around, the most jagged edges facing him.

_Those stones can cut through my skin with ease. And it’s surrounding me in a circle, the gaps too small to dodge around. I try, and I’m likely to get impaled with rocks. I could split into wind clones and have them thin out the barrage- but they would dissipate faster then the rocks would be destroyed._

_I don’t have a Jutsu that surrounds all my sides- I need to work on one of those, I think- and even if I got clones to help me with mudwall, they wouldn’t be able to hold it long enough without bursting. I could try Hiraishinning but I would only throw myself into the centre with no space to try and fight. I've still not got the best understanding of Hiraishin anyway. My only choice is to-_ He quickly made the hand seals as the rocks came plummeting towards him, and he could sense the Fox taking an interest in everything that was happening.

White-hot chakra threatened to escape the confines of his skin, but he grit his teeth, batting it back with all of his strength. He grabbed one of the shinobi who were controlling the Jutsu, and swapped places with him, leaving him to get impaled with the stones. He landed roughly in almost all fours, forcing himself up into a standing position. He took advantage of the brief moments of shock he had, and ran his hands through the signs- _Rat. Rabbit. Dog_ \- in order to utilise one of his few wind style techniques.

“ _Wind Style: Shinkūgyoku.”_

Around him, cylinders of wind formed, erupting outwards to give him some more room to work with as each respective shinobi jumped away, dodging the needle-like spikes. _Clearing a path is going to be harder then I thought, and there are far too many people for me to defeat by myself. The Kyūbi… cannot come out. I need to survive for my brother, and surviving doesn’t mean losing control on the border. There’s nothing saying I’d get my control back._

His thoughts were pushed aside as he avoided several more strikes, cancelling out what looked like a giant water snake with an earth wall. But soon, he was faced with a new problem, as he began to tire and fatigue from fighting against fifty people at once.

His problem was that he could either block a nasty looking lightning Jutsu or dodge a nasty strike to his thigh. If he dodged the nasty kunai to the thigh, then he’d have little chance of dodging the lightning strike and consequent shock. If he blocked the jutsu with a wall, then he’d get stabbed.

_I cannot win this battle._ He thought, opting to block the Jutsu with a mudwall, and feeling the piercing pain of a kunai in his thigh. He repeated his trick with _Shinkūgyoku,_ pushing them all aside and giving him some space, before casting his memory back to the scroll he’d studied, the scroll that Itachi had given him. He pressed his hands to the kunai, covering his hands in blood, a film of red covering them, repeating the hand seals from memory as fast as he could. _Boar. Dog. Bird. Monkey. Ram._

_God, I hope this works._

And he slammed his hand down onto the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


	16. Affinity and Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course, it had to be on my “final” mission before my break that everything went tits up. And while my instincts had been on edge ever since I took it- it was rare that I was sent on a missive recovery mission after all- I had put it down to the nervousness of returning to the village once all was said and done. But, I hadn’t expected to be met by an attack force of nearly fifty men, and I wasn’t my father- and I was suddenly grateful for the summoning jutsu. Had I not received that- I wouldn’t have returned in one piece, if at all. And my brother would have been alone again- an eventuality I never wanted to come to pass.”

Contrary to what Mitsuo had told Itachi, in reality, he had very little knowledge about summons. He knew the practical sense, sign a contract, summon a summon with the Jutsu and a swipe of your blood. Simple, in theory. Different people got a different summons, and different summons had different personalities, natures, and abilities, like the average human.

Different summons lived in different places, and normally, a human would only get there by personal invitation, a reverse summons, or by trying to summon a summon without a contract. The average shinobi didn’t have a summon, often passed down through clans or family, or accidentally obtained. But besides that, his knowledge was stretched.

He could list the more common summons, like crows or dogs, but in reality, any animal could become a summon. Contracts were only given to those who the would-be summon trusted, and it could not be forced or stolen. There were hefty prices to be paid for trying to attempt such a thing. When he’d done the summoning jutsu, he’d done it to escape almost certain death, to try and protect his brother and Itachi.

To die so soon after Shisui’s death, not only would it destroy Itachi guilt-wise, but Naruto would be devastated. The images of Naruto, feeling alone in the world, swinging on the swing by himself, no Mitsuo there to look after him. Walking along the riverside to head to their apartment, running on bare fumes to try and survive. Children being children, bullying him because of what was inside him.

He knew that the Fox within his stomach, within his entire being, would not allow him to perish, releasing the chakra within him in the violent surge that he’d expected before. But with no Naruto around, no seal master of any kind, if it managed to break or even tamper with the seal, there was nobody to stop the Kyūbi. It didn’t escape his notice that had he been able to master the Hiraishin, he would have been able to simply teleport away, even if it was a short distance.

But since he hadn’t, not yet anyway, it was that by how he found himself walking through what looked like a ravine. But it was no normal looking ravine. There were large rock-like crags, peering over, orangey coloured intemperance. They were layered upon one another, creating several piers, places to stand and watch the valley go by.

It seemed to be flat, halfway up to the clouds, so high that you could likely see the surroundings for miles around. Right now, he was at the bottom of those crags, the earth a crusty yellow colour with orange blades of grass sticking out every so often, but despite that, there were trees around. The wood was a muddyish brown, cracked in places, blistered from the sun. The leaves were a humbling mix of oranges and yellows, branching and creating a canopy from the blistering sun.

_Naruto would love this place- wide and open, filled with his favourite colours._ As he followed the path, he noticed small statues, scattered every mile or so. He crouched down, a respectful distance away as he focused on them, observing them despite the pain in his thigh, still healing slowly, blood running down his leg. He pulled out the kunai, noting the sharp blade and fresh squirt of blood as he tucked it away to be analysed later when he got back to the village.

_They always come in pairs. Like bodyguards… one defending the other._ They were made out of stone, it looked like, the features reminding Mitsuo of a dog. There were stony eyes, a pale grey adding depth to the features. The muzzle slightly pointed out, had the carefully etched grooves reminding him of the Inazuka Clan wolfhounds. Their paws were dug into the ground, standing tall and proud, as their manes almost flew in the wind, despite the immovability of stone. It wrapped around their mane like a scarf, with the tail appearing just like a mane.

On the back of each paw, there were tufts of fur, like they were a backing blade to be used defensively. He backed away, standing up with hesitant ease as he continued walking along the path, deep in thought. But even his deep thoughts didn’t stop him from being overly aware of his surroundings, knowing that he was in some summons's home. _I just hope they are friendly… and that I can get back to Naruto and Itachi soon._

“What are you going here, _Kitsune no Ko?”_

He looked up from where the wise sounding voice came from, noticing a figure similar to the statues resting on the overreaching cliffs. As much as he didn’t appreciate being called “The Child of Foxes”, he knew that to disrespect someone in their own home was the greatest dishonour, and was counter-intuitive to getting home.

It was a good thing that he was sometimes sent on diplomatic missions because it meant he had to be able to hold his tongue, even when he wanted to say something otherwise. He did his best diplomatic behaviour, steeping into an unoffending bow, an apology resting on his tongue.

“I apologise for intruding on this place. I mean no disrespect-”

The figure- he figured it was more polite then referring to them as “creature” or “animal”- leapt down, landing smoothly on all fours. The figure sounded distinctly feminine, reaching up to around his waist, prowling around him, tail swishing in the air. She- he was going to run with it until he was told otherwise- looked like a lion-dog hybrid, the face distinctly dog-like.

With black lips and a button nose of the dog, she looked at him with a contemplative look. Around their head, there were the lean ears of a lion, metal-like plates covering the bridge of the muzzle, up to where the eyebrows would be on a human. The fur, thin and skinny, was a pale green, like the green of an of a fledgeling leaf on the trees of Konoha, barely ready to bloom.

More fur made up the tail, as though it was completely separate, joint by the same metal that appeared on the face. The tail-fur was dark green like the colour of the grass when it was shadowed over, and the same kind of fur appeared in tufts on her hind legs.

“Is it not customary to introduce yourself with your name?”

She made sense in a way but had she not interrupted him mid-sentence, he would have introduced himself. He nodded, adjusting the makeshift bandage he’d applied around his waist, tying off the knot. He did have faster healing than most, but it also depended on his chakra reserve, which while substantially high, still needed to rest from time to time. He bowed his head in acceptance, before releasing his hands to his sides, nodding.

“Forgive me, I am Uzumaki Mitsuo, Shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. May I ask your name?”

“Very formal, for a human. You may rise from your bow, my name is Reiki, of _Sankisubarē._ I will take you to the pride leaders.”

_Sunkissed Valley. A fitting name._ Mitsuo thought as he returned to a standing position. With the orange hues that danced along the landscape, the warm reds and soft yellows, it looked like the sun was constantly above it, constantly shining its rays down on the place. He followed after Reiki as she paced along the path, weaving through the forest.

So, he was in the Sunkissed Valley, a place that contained some kind of summon- or would be summon, anyway, either walking to his future doom or, hopefully, a nice entity that would let him go home to his brother. Or, being extremely optimistic, would let him have a summon contract. But the impression he got was that they- or at the very least, Reiki, was wary of humans. _Why is that?_

“So, why are you here, _Kitsune no Ko?”_

He needed to be truthful without giving out the full details of the mission. Even giving it to a potential summons, leaking such information could work out badly in the long run. Especially since the mission was a set up- something he’d been able to determine when an intelligence recovery mission suddenly blew up into a fifty versus one person brawl.

He would’ve been due back in a few days- if he wasn’t back by then, they’d surely send out people to look for him. Tracker-nin would find his chakra signature, but they wouldn’t be able to trace it very far. Itachi would look after Naruto until he got back… but if his brother thought he was dead… it was an occupational hazard, but Naruto was still so young.

He wouldn’t understand- not because he wasn’t intelligent or anything like that- but because he was still just a child- with his friends slowly dropping in number every year. He didn’t comment on being called “The Child of Foxes” again, answering the question honestly- or at least, fairly honestly.

“I was on a mission from the Hokage, where I was to retrieve an important missive. But the enemy already knew I was there and was lying in wait with fifty men. I fought as many as I could, but realised I could not fight them all off myself. So I performed the summoning Jutsu to get away.”

“It is very rare that someone has an affinity for our kind. You are an anomaly- and not just because of the Bijū within you. Come.”

He followed behind her, tearing off a part of his sleeve to tie around his thigh, staunching the bloodloss with a tight tourniquet. He could feel the wound grow hot as if it could spontaneously burst into flames, but they walked the rest of the way, soon approaching a widening field. The cliffed pathway parted revealing a circular open-topped cavern, several caves digging into the surface of the cliff-face. There was the odd scattering of bushes in small clumps, but other then that, the circle was empty.

Each cliff on different levels of the cavern were different shapes and sizes, ones that were small enough that even Mitsuo couldn’t go through, but some wide enough to fit a small house. He stood out in the open, feeling exposed but fighting his instincts to get out of there. From underneath a small cliff, two more creatures emerged, much larger then Mitsuo himself. They towered above him, and were about twenty feet tall, with the one to the right about twenty-four.

The smaller one was lean, lacking any kind of mane, her bones settled nestled within her skin. Her skin was a pale yellow, but the bigger tufts of fur that grew on the back of her legs and the end of her tail were a warm orange.

The figure beside her had a mane, tussled and messy, a navy colour. His fur was an ash grey kind of colour, his skin like the ocean at it’s deepest darkest depths, lashed and scarred as though he had been through some great battle. For all Mitsuo knew, he could have. Rounded sunset eyes and slitted icy blue ones stared at him, and from the air that the two of them projected, he could tell they were the leaders and not ones to cross.

“A human? We have not had one here for many years. And one with a Bijū… even longer. How did you come about here?”

She spoke with an air of authority, her tone protective and while not openly hostile, it wasn’t warm and nice either. While Mitsuo was by no means an expert in summons and summon types, he had never heard of a hybrid creature like what he was currently seeing. A mixture of a lion and a hound- it was a sightly combination, something that was intimidating, perhaps not as much as the Kyūbi, but still intimidating regardless.

“Speak, boy.”

The male spoke gruffly like he couldn’t bear to be around Mitsuo. Remembering that he was the intruder in this scenario, and he wanted to get back to his brother and Itachi and Sasuke as soon as he could. He had no idea where he was, and for all he knew, he could be in any of the other countries- he could be as far out as lightning.

“I used the summoning jutsu- I was on a mission, surrounded with no visible way out- and since I did not have a summoning contract, I was brought here.”

The female’s eyes wandered down to his thigh, her gaze measured and unchanging. The two creatures had a silent conversation, something he wasn’t privy to. Reiki disappeared from beside him despite the lack of shrubbery or any place for her to actually disappear and all of a sudden, he was alone, in unfamiliar territory, unable to contact home, a shinobi’s worst nightmare.

“Reiki. Heal our guest, please.”

She spoke so formally, with a weight in her voice, that made Mitsuo unable to ignore her, even if the order wasn’t exactly aimed at him. Reiki reappeared, her pale green skin standing out amongst the orangish landscape. Paws walking towards him, he looked at the impromptu tourniquet, slowly reaching down to untie it, letting the wound out to the open. It was certainly shallower then it had been before, courtesy of the Fox’s healing ability, but it was still enough to impede him.

“Stay still.”

The male warned gruffly, and as his tourniquet fell to the ground, he raised his hands at his chest, palms towards them, fingers spread and flat. The sign of peace, and that he wasn’t about to hurt Reiki. He didn’t care for killing those who had done him no danger. She came close, and chakra around them intensified as there was a glint in her eyes- not of anger or ill intent, but of concentration.

Besides the sudden gathering of chakra, there was no other sign that any kind of technique had taken place- after all, it was a little difficult to do intricate jutsu while your hands were paws. It wasn’t as if you could make seals with digitigrade fingers after all.

“ _Jinenryōhō._ ”

_Nature’s Remedy._ He translated in his head as there was almost a whistle, green-chakra like snakes coiling around his leg, tightening in thick coils. The wound that had begun to bleed again slowly clotted as the snakes wrapped themselves around tightly enough for him to lose some degree of feeling in his leg.

“If you can prove yourself, we’ll give you a contract. If not, we’ll send you on your way. Do you agree to our terms?”

Some part of him was excited, a childish part of him long-buried that only just rose to the surface. It was quickly tempered because summoning contracts were not something to be taken lightly, and overall, Naruto was his priority. Forget the mission, the village- _Naruto_ was what was important. His brother who would worry if he was home late.

“Before I do, may I send a message to my village? My brother will worry otherwise.”

“Your brother? What about your Hokage? Should he not be your priority?”

He shook his head, feeling blasphemous despite the fact that to him, it was true. Family meant so much more than Konoha did to him, and Naruto was a priority to him. After all, why would he love a village where everything he ever loved aside from his brother and Itachi, was taken away from him.

“Maybe he should be- but while I respect Lord Third, my brother is the most important thing to me.”

The male nodded slowly, looking deep in thought as Reiki finishing checking the wound, disappearing yet again. Little did Mitsuo know that he had gained a modicum of respect from the male- although it would take a lot more than that for him to even think of having the male trust him.

“Very well, you may write your letter.”

And with an unfurling of a scroll and a pair of indigo eyes watching him, he scribed a letter- or in fact, two. One for the Hokage, explaining a delay, and one for Naruto and Itachi, both being sent separately because it could go straight to Naruto that way. Strictly speaking, it was against protocol, but there was nothing confidential in Naruto’s letter- and the one for the Hokage was going to be strictly sealed, using the compulsory seal taught to all Konohagakure-nin.

“ _Arigatō_.”

He told them, with a bow, settling down where he stood, explaining the circumstances. How long he would be here, he didn’t know, so he put the estimation of a week and a half, putting down the excuse of being outnumbered.

_After all_ , he thought to himself, signing the scroll and applying the seal, _it’s not really an excuse or a lie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late! I've been really busy with exams and the like. Still, hope you enjoyed it!


	17. A New Kind of Tutelage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There was something ironic that my nature aligned with the Komainu, one of the most reclusive summons ever recorded in Shinobi history. The last registered shinobi with a Komainu summon had been one Akagi Hayami of Whirlpool. And while I wouldn’t learn the story of her for a long while yet, she had caused some deep scars within the eldest Komainu, resulting in the increase in their reclusiveness. And after I had learned of that story, I understood a little bit more- because who would trust the species of those who had hurt you?”

“There was something ironic that my nature aligned with the Komainu, one of the most reclusive summons ever recorded in Shinobi history. The last registered shinobi with a Komainu summon had been one Akagi Hayami of Whirlpool. And while I wouldn’t learn the story of her for a long while yet, she had caused some deep scars within the eldest Komainu, resulting in the increase in their reclusiveness. And after I had learned of that story, I understood a little bit more- because who would trust the species of those who had hurt you?”

"Hello!"

The suddenly cheery greeting made him jump more than he liked to admit, leaping up from his sleep with a quick movement, hands reflexively going to his weapon. His bed for the night previous had been literal stone, but at least it was flat. He'd been put in a small alcove of his own so that while it had gotten a little cold, he had been protected mostly from the elements.

It was better than sleeping out in the wild, and he was accustomed to not being in comfort- you had to be when travelling was something you did often, and to stay in another village was rare.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! I'm just excited! Pops said that you're my charge for today, and he never lets me be around anyone!"

The behaviour was odd compared to the authoritative seniors, and the quiet, solemn nature of Reiki. Her eyes were indigo coloured, the pupils more rounded and bouncy then slit like the others he'd seen. Her skin was a deep black like the night sky, short and soft-looking, no deeper than his own hair.

On the back of her legs, there were tufts of fur, a navy blue colour which was reminiscent of the male's. She seemed more open to him, with less "on guard" behaviour. In a way, it reminded Mitsuo of Naruto, ever bubbly and happy and trusting.

"My name's Miyako! It's nice to meet you! Where're you from? Oh, how old are you? Are you a shinobi? Pops didn't say anything to me other than that I needed to teach you what I know and tell him about it. He was pretty grumpy today-"

That was… a _lot_ of words. You'd think he'd be used to deciphering word vomit by now, but there was a difference between Naruto's word vomit and Miyako's word vomit. He broke it down sentence by sentence, blinking at her as he composed an answer, without missing a beat.

Miyako was about up to the size of his knee, around about one foot tall. She was the smallest that he'd seen- which wasn't hard because she was the fourth of her kind that he'd met- and he wondered if height correlated with age like it did for humans.

"My name is Mitsuo. It's a pleasure to meet you too. I'm from Konohagakure, a village in Fire Country. I'm thirteen and yes, I'm a shinobi."

He had deliberated on what and how to answer, because if he told them the wrong thing, then the consequences were untold. The most secret secret he had to hide was already out of the bag the minute he'd arrived here, and the fox still swirled around his stomach, poking at the sides of his cage experimentally. _Still, there's no pain and the seal is fine- I think- so I'm hoping he's not escaping. There's no red haze of chakra or burning feeling or a loss of control._

"Really? You seem older. What's your name mean? Is Fire Country hot? What is your chakra nature? Oh, we better go, Pops won't be happy if we dawdle. Come on, we're going to the forest- we can talk on the way."

Mitsuo got up, no sign of exhaustion, quickly cataloguing his gear. _Kunai, check. Sharp and in good condition. Shuriken, smoke bombs, chakra levels are fine._ His name was peculiar, but not because it meant so many different things. That wasn't exactly uncommon. It was so different compared to other variations of the same name, the spelling uncommon.

Naruto had been named after a character in his father's sensei's book- what book it was, or who the sensei was, he didn't know- and his name also meant whirlpool, a maelstrom, a reminder of their _Haha's_ legacy. Naruto's name remained unchanged from how his parents wanted it, the only change being that he was an Uzumaki, not a Namikaze.

His brother's name literally meant "Maelstrom Spiral" or "Maelstrom Whirlpool." It was a strong name even by most standards, whirlpools were quick, drawing people in, convergence in a conflicted current. Maelstroms were powerful, the centre as everybody else was forced to orbit them.

Naruto certainly drew people in with his personality- but only if he was given a chance.

But Mitsuo's entire name had been rewritten so that the meaning wasn't the same, that it wasn't what his parents had wanted. Once, his name meant "living light." His name had been the embodiment of what he was to his parents, their living light. It had been spelt to mean that: "光生".

But it had been changed when he'd been forced to change his last name so that now it was spelt "光雄" or "male light." That other meaning, he didn't like it, it didn't have the warmth or love that it had originally had come from his parents.

"My name means 'male light' or, depending on who you ask, 'boyish light.' Fire Country is fairly hot, but not unbearably so and my nature is wind."

Maybe it was a blessing in a way, so he wasn't chained to his past. So that there would be fond memories of the boy that had been the Yondaime's son, and not the boy he was now. They were two completely different people: before trauma and after trauma. _I just hope the boy I am now is a boy that our parents could be proud of and not one of the one's that they'd be ashamed of._

* * *

_"_ I'm supposed to teach you stealth and how to disappear using chakra!"

She chirped happily, in the middle of a forested area. The canopies were small, meaning that a large majority of the forested area was alight with an orange glow, meaning that disappearing was a little difficult. The lack of anything to hide behind was also an issue because while he could henge and substitute to a high degree, chakra control was something he struggled with, especially the kind needed to use it to disappear.

It would have to cover his entire skin, and do various other things that he wasn't sure he had the control for. There was always the option of a large genjutsu, but it wasn't one of his strengths. _No matter the lessons Itachi gives me, I can never get past basic genjutsu._ He was a little intrigued what this could involve- an errand, a lesson?

He also had a little bit of trouble believing that the apparently outspoken Miyako was able to just disappear, but he'd soon be able to find out that she was more then able to do so. He dipped his head, looking at her with a neutral gaze, neither revealing nor concealing anything openly.

"What do you have in mind, Sensei?"

She pulled a face as though she'd eaten a sour dango stick, her muzzle pulling back in distaste, nose wrinkling somewhat. Her eyes narrowed, indigo eyes suddenly looking much more serious then they had been just seconds earlier. The air around them flip-flopped as she didn't break his gaze, her voice low.

"Don't call me that. Now, let's test your stealth. I'm going to go stand in the middle of the field, and you're going to try and creep up on me. We begin when I'm in position."

There was definitely some reason that she detested the word sensei, and he made a mental note not to call her that again. There were other things he could call her. Nodding in agreement, he settled back as she sat where she said she'd sit, in the middle of the open field.

It was open, no trees, rocks, or any other larger object nearby. The sky was a vibrant orange, and there were few cast shadows. The grass was short and cropped, barely reaching next to his sandals, meaning that it wasn't as if he could hide somehow within that. There were no birds around, and in fact, hadn't been since he'd been here, meaning that if he henged into one of them, it would be a clear giveaway.

He remained within the treeline, fingers tensing as he analysed the situation. There weren't many opportunities for him to take, so the first thing he started to do was mask his chakra, wiping any trace of him. Circling around, she continued to sit out in the open, not moving anyway.

He pushed himself under the ground with a quick flurry of seals, disappearing under the earth, crawling through as he carved a tunnel. The chakra within whatever they were was distinct, making a cold washing flow through him. He slowly moved through the earth, because if he moved too fast, then there would be subtle earth tremors, giving his position away. Not that he got very far before Miyako slammed her paws right above where he was standing, the flow of chakra seeping around him like roots from a plant.

"Found you."

He reappeared with ease, brushing earth off his uniform. Miyako stared at him with a gaze that blatantly said "try harder." and motioned with a flick of her neck for him to try again, and he did. _I knew this wasn't going to be easy, and I knew I wasn't going to get it first time. But I'm determined to do this- there must be a solution._

The next attempt had involved distraction. He'd gotten his wind clone to henge into a less corporeal version of him, running around the north side of the field. It'd not made much noise- recreating the techniques that Mitsuo had learnt from Itachi, but did enough to take the attention off of Mitsuo, who was sitting coiled in the tree.

He slowly crept across the clearing, first entering the grass as a henged leaf, masking his vibrant chakra. Getting the leaf to float to the ground had been an interesting dilemma, but he'd managed it after experimenting what he knew about wind nature and using it to his advantage. Moving along the grass had been a slow process, with him working between each blade of grass- a highly ineffective method of stealth considering that each time he henged into a blade of grass, there was a higher chance of him being detected.

Which was what had happened before he'd even crossed halfway, Miyako calling out his exact position, to the letter. Forcing himself to accept that he'd been rumbled, he'd retreated to the surroundings, his stubborn perseverance flaring to the surface.

Third time around, he decided to study his opponent, to see what about her he could use to his advantage. But there wasn't much to observe when she sat in the middle of an open field, not doing anything to really observe. She was young, that was sure, just from her tone of speech and the way she had almost a childish enthusiasm.

With black fur, she was naturally camouflaged into her surroundings, and he wasn't imaging the tapping of her claws against the thin grass. On her forehead, there was a navy crystal in the armoured plates, but he didn't know enough about her species to decide what that meant, if anything. On the plates around her jaw, her name was written in the old language, the etching newish and loopy.

This time, he tried something a little bit different. He summoned a clone, sending it up into the cliffs, and got him to make the clouds denser using his fog jutsu. As the clouds increased in density, they cast more of a shadow as the sun got blanked out. The clone did it slowly, trying to make it appear as subtle as possible, and once it was subsequently thick enough, and the clone had burst, he merged himself into the shadows to the best of his ability- he was no Nara- and while he'd gotten closer then he had before, she still caught him out.

"I see you. The shadows are not always your friend."

He was never one to give up, but he was beginning to run out of immediate options that didn't involve it being dark. Puzzles were things he enjoyed, mainly because of their free nature, but also because they engaged his mind. There was nothing more enjoyable then cracking a puzzle which had you working at it for a while.

Still, it didn't mean that it wasn't annoying when you couldn't get that answer.

Mitsuo thought about what she'd said about the shadows, trying to come up with a counter-strategy. Just _what_ did that mean? Shadows were fairly good when they weren't being handled with those who could manipulate Yin Release, naturally shrouding those within. Of course, they could also be the greatest enemy, but that was beyond the point.

He went back to analysing her as the thickened clouds dissipated, the field becoming surrounded with light once again. She showed no sign of being fussed by it, or even affected, staring at a particular blade of grass. At the edges of his senses, as he threw out his chakra as subtly as he could, there was a weird gathering of chakra right where her shadow was being cast.

_Wait._

It hit him like a building collapsing on him- which he'd actually had happen to him once, but that was beside the point- the shadows didn't help him because they were helping _her._ She was a user of _Yin_ Release. Everything he'd tried so far beyond the clone cast a shadow- the blades of grass, the trees, the rocks, the fog. When he'd made the area darker to try and take advantage of the shadows, he'd been stabbing himself in the foot- because she controlled the shadows.

To what extent, he didn't know, but it was safe to assume that shadows weren't helping him in this stealth mission.

Around her, her shadow was dense, chakra fuelling it and feeding it, constrained within the shadow that she cast. It was unnatural, but not in a demonic or wrong way. Yang Release would have been a great way to counter it, but it wasn't commonly taught- more of a bloodline or Kekkei Genkai ability. Of course, he didn't need to _create_ light, he just _needed_ it.

Fire could create light, and between Itachi's fire jutsu and his own wind ones, a large enough blaze to banish the shadows was simple. Of course, doing such a thing subtly was difficult, but if there was a will, there was a way. And so, he began to plan- something his mind was extremely good at by now, because he was nothing but resourceful.

_If I place a genjutsu around her, I can make it seem normal. Of course, I don't know how long I can hold it on her, but I just need it to look normal for the few seconds that the fireball jutsu takes to fire. As the shadows are banished, I can leap forwards quickly, using my agility and wind nature to cut through._

He also added in the fact that he was surrounded by trees and grass- both highly flammable things. He wasn't about to start a forest fire if he could help it. _They live here, and I would never desecrate surroundings if I can help it: that's like someone blowing up my house, which I'm surprised hasn't happened yet between Dog trying to cook and Shisui deciding to practise chakra control in my kitchen._

Dog, whoever he was, may have been distant, but he tried to help in other ways- but he'd thankfully never tried to cook anything again after that incident.

There was going to be at least three of him to handle this: he needed to be the one to tag her, one person needed to maintain the genjutsu, and one needed to make the fire jutsu. There was the added complication of whether the genjutsu would hold or not and the fact that wind clones had a tendency to burst if they used too much chakra or tried to do too big of a task with any kind of jutsu.

"You've got control of Yin Release. That's _why_ the shadows aren't my friend."

She cracked a grin, a fanged expression that was somewhat terrifying- not that Mitsuo would openly admit that. Fear was hardly a shinobi's best emotion- the expression _"A shinobi can never express their emotions while being a shinobi- the slightest giveaway can result in your opponent getting ahead of you."_

_"_ Observant. Now come on- I'll show you how to be invisible _without_ the need for genjutsu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a good Christmas tomorrow guys!


	18. Shadows of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Komainu history is a long and painful thing: once protectors, then thrown away as though they had contributed nothing. I found it interesting- because in a way, I could relate. I had once been a normal child, had been Namikaze Mitsuo, with a smile as bright as the sun, a light hearted attitude that I got from my mother, but when my parents died, that identity was thrown away just as easily as the komainu once were.
> 
> It really highlighted the ironic nature of my relationship with them, and to this date, I still don’t know why they trusted a thirteen-year-old boy from Konohagakure, Uzumaki-Namikaze blood or not.”

The chakra control necessary for what she was asking him to pull off was nigh on impossible to begin with- his chakra wild and untameable at best. The first time he’d tried to circle it around the outside of his skin, using his pathways as guides, he’d nearly blown himself into the side of a tree, only caught by Miyako’s hastily formed shadow cushions as they were dubbed.

Who knew that there were other ways for Yin Release to be used.

The second time he’d tried, attempting to go the long way around his body in an attempt to manage the control, his chakra hadn’t responded well, becoming unstable and lashing out wildly. While there were no new impacts into the side of a shadow cushion this time around, there was the distinct shape of a circle cut around in the grass, courtesy of the wind nature he’d unintentionally summoned.

At least if he ever had to mow some grass he could just let his chakra seep across in a pool.

Third attempt had resulted in him being catapulted across the clearing, fourth plummeted into a crater he’d unintentionally formed in the ground. Fifth he’d exploded in a wind-style kind of detonation that barely made a dent in his chakra reserves but had meant that the grass around him was even shorter then it already had been- he was going to look into that as a technique at some point- and sixth his chakra just fizzled out, before suddenly reappearing in an uncontrollable flicker.

“Alright, this isn’t working. Let’s try…”

She approached him, and with his permission, placed seals on his main chakra points, in an attempt to regulate the chakra going through them. _“Only temporary. Once you get used to moving it through them, I can remove them and there are no negative effects.”_ Which was reassuring, and also intriguing- was there someone here that could teach him more about seals? Seal masters were uncommon, due to the complexity and skill needed to weave them on the fly, but both his parents had been the greatest in their generation.

Surely someone else had that knowledge to impart onto him.

So, seven, eight, and nine had resulted in the chakra flowing around his body, although after a few seconds, the seals would burn out with the sheer intensity of his chakra reserves. Even after all these attempts, his chakra had barely depleted, having replenished the night before. There was also the different kind of chakra he’d been sensing since he’d gotten here, having his senses occasionally flared out to help with control.

Normally, he could only sense the chakra within another being, but within Miyako and the others, there were two different types, settling in coexistance with one another. It was the same kind of chakra he sensed in his surroundings, different from what he was used to.

On his tenth attempt, he’d managed to get somewhat closer. At first, he’d started out sensing his general surroundings, creating an invisible dome around him that would alert him of those near the barrier. Then, he slowly narrowed it inch by inch, the dome decreasing in size until it wrapped itself around him, settling over his skin like an elastic band relaxing.

Though it still exploded out if he took his concentration off of the task, it was significantly better then he’d been four and a half hours ago. Miyako had offered no praise but the simple nod of her head, moving onto the next step which was even more difficult.

“Now, you need to incorporate _Yang Release_ into your chakra- to bend the light away from you.”

And it turned out to be just as hard as Mitsuo anticipated- his lack of knowledge surrounding Yang Release didn’t help, and it was just as hard to control as any other element besides wind was. But he was his father’s son and used to attempting the most difficult tasks with little advice- and while it took him a while, he could safely say by the end of it that his chakra control had improved.

* * *

Next in line in the “trials and tribulations of the komainu”- after inquiring and being taught the very basics of komainu history, he’d finally learnt their species name- he was charged under Mamoru’s tutelage for the day, his speciality being guarding and protecting, and especially, barriers.

Something that would come in handy if he ever found himself in a situation where he needed to protect Naruto while he couldn’t protect himself. Mamoru, around about fifteen feet tall, had ash-grey fur with the darkest mane like the colour of the shadows they cast. In contrast, his eyes were a vibrant grass-green, the colour of Konoha’s grass if the season was a good one.

On his head, there was a silver-coloured gemstone, and the metal-like armour that decorated the entire species was an onyx colour, like the colour of slate. The first thing he’d been set to was a basic barrier, something that sounded simple in practise, but was much more difficult in actuality. You had to keep your chakra carefully neutral otherwise the barrier would overload the seals used to anchor it, and blow up in your face, but solid enough to actually repel attacks.

The seals used, by the way, were like ones Mitsuo had never seen before- not that he’d seen many. _I guess that’s technically what I did first, practise drawing the seals._ They weren’t hard to draw once he’d memorised the meanings and symbols, and while the first set hadn’t worked, Mamoru had instructed him with a huff- as though the mere point that his chakra simply overloaded the seals was Mitsuo’s fault- to add more symbols onto the seal, sort of fixing the issue.

The seals would still blow if he wasn’t careful, but at least they could channel his chakra somewhat.

Mitsuo was jumping ahead of the gun a little bit though, thinking of how he could chain the barriers to his Hiraishin technique- not that he’d mastered any of them yet, but it didn’t hurt to imagine or plan it out for the future- or maybe even engrave the seal onto some kunai, like his father had for his kunai.

_Plans for the future Mitsuo._ He chastised himself, concentrating on adding the additional strokes and redoing them when they didn’t get Mamoru’s approval. _I can’t try that out until I actually master both techniques._

Plus, he had to understand what else could and couldn’t be added to this kind of seal, and whether the practise could be applied to normal fūinjutsu. He understood the seals in a way he’d not understood anything else- they were stupid. They had to be told specifically what to do, when to do it, how to do it, and what to respond to. They lacked adaptability unless they were told how to adapt. And they didn’t understand the same language they did, didn’t pick up on context or words or meanings- they just understood symbols.

Was that the meaning that you’d be taught by a fūinjutsu specialist? No, probably not. But, it was the one he was going to be running with since there was a distinct lack of those in Mitsuo’s life- the one at Konoha didn’t count since she, like many others, hated his guts.

Honestly, he was lucky that she hadn’t disobeyed the Hokage and weaved “eternal pain” or something like that into his father’s seal. It’s not like their father would have known to weave a counter-measure to that specific clause- he’d been working on borrowed time after all, and had naively hoped they’d be treated well.

After he’d set up the dome, he’d gone back to channelling his chakra through the seals to try and form it. Getting the barrier/dome up wasn’t the hard part- the hard part was both not blowing the seals into high heaven and getting it to withstand an attack. While he wasn’t sure what amount of power Mamoru was putting behind his attack, he certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one.

“Try adding these to your seals- curse your Bijū for messing this up.”

Mitsuo would rather he _didn’t_ aggravate his half of the fox demon in his stomach, please, because he didn’t fancy dealing with the fate of having him ripped out of his stomach, which was a very painful way to go. Well, that, and it was likely the Kyūbi would go on a rampage, and he didn’t want that, either.

Once in his lifetime had been enough, thank you.

Still, he made the required editions to the seals, increasing their capacities for chakra, and adding more chakra points- making four more anchor points to anchor it to the ground. That meant there were more ways for chakra to flow and interconnect, reinforcing the barrier somewhat. Mamoru looked at him with slow eyes, analysing the dome he’d finally managed to construct, and launched a clawed attack at it- the barrier wobbling but not failing.

“Better. Try again.”

It was a good thing that he was driven by his own goals and not by praise, because that was not something he was going to get from the gruff Mamoru. Still, he wasn’t openly hostile which was more then what he got from Konoha, so silver linings.

Let it never be said that he hadn’t been the slightest bit smug when he’d finally erected a strong barrier- because it had only gotten torn down again once they started messing with the seals. Including weaving different natures into it, starting with wind, since that should have been the easiest.

Turned out, just because it was his nature didn’t mean it was the easiest. In fact, it was still difficult- evidenced by the cuts he’d been wearing for the past twenty minutes, courtesy of an unintended wind vortex. Still, he was stubborn and persevered- and by the end of the day, he could do a dome with wind in it, though it was not perfect.

But that was what training was for after all.

* * *

Taniko had been next. The lean, twenty-foot tall komainu with the sunset eyes and a name that said what she was: a valley child. With skin as pale as the yellow sun on a cloudy day, and her brief bunches of fur an orange-like fire, she was the warmest in both attitude and colour-scheme. With her, he learnt more about komainu history, though just the briefest introduction.

_“We komainu were originally created, back during the Sage of Six Path’s lifetime, to act as protectors to the Bijū. Specifically, the Kyūbi. All was well, for many years- and I’m talking about many years in terms of lifetimes- before the Bijū started changing in attitude, becoming more hostile: keeping their intelligence, but having it overwhelmed by hatred._

_When the Bijū went their own ways, once close as kin and now as distant and distrustful as soldiers in a war, the Kyūbi was the last one we remained with, until he, bewitched by the Sharingan as I believe you call it, lost every thread of intelligence he may have had, blinded by hatred._

_And when that happened, the Bijū sealed away in Jinchūriki, like you, we were left aimless. My ancestors drafted up a contract, so we could do what our original purpose was: to protect. Even then though, we were proud, only offering our contract to those who deserved it.”_

She paused, adding to the mysticism of the story as they sat curled up in the back of hers and Tanomu’s cave, the light from the fire dancing across the walls intricately. On the fire, there was thin strips of what looked like rabbit meat, and though he wasn’t expecting anything, she gave him some with just a simple statement of “you’re skin and bones.”

Which he was- skin, bone, and muscle. But Naruto in comparison wasn’t as skinny, which was more important considering he was still growing. _And,_ he thought amusedly, thinking of his brother with ramen for eyes as he gobbled it, _he had a better diet then just ramen, which I know he would have just eaten for days if I hadn’t been around._

_“The first name on our contract was Senju Hashirama, who displayed several characteristics that we ourselves came to admire. He was willing to protect anyone who needed it, even if they themselves disagreed. He was a naturally charismatic leader, often taking the brunt of the blame if it kept the large majority safe.”_

Mitsuo knew that name from his days at the Academy. Everybody in Konoha knew Hashirama: he was the one who came up with “The Will of Fire.” and the very first Hokage- the Shodaime. A master of Wood Release and one of the founders of Konohagakure, he was revered for what he did to protect the village and try to stop the war.

Of course, Mitsuo loosely believed in “The Will of Fire”- nothing was more important then family, that much he agreed with, but it was naive to think that Konoha was the large family that Hashirama thought it was. Maybe it was in his day, but what Mitsuo knew now was not a family. It was a group of separated civilians and clans, each one fending for their own bloodline and nothing else. That was not a family.

Family was more than blood, and nature, and abilities.

_“He was the Shodaime of my village.”_

Taniko had nodded in agreement, biting off the strip of rabbit that had been on the fire. Normally, he’d been told, they’d just eat the entire the entire rabbit or animal that they’d hunted, but he’d skinned it. Apparently, the fur was irritating when swallowed.

_“Yes. And from what I heard, he was a good leader. Even after the First Great Ninja War, and there was tentative peace, he continued to visit Sankisubarē, or summon us. He kindled a tentative trust in the humans that we’ve never shed, and though we were never loyal to any particular village, we placed our loyalty in anyone who had earned it.”_

Despite Mitsuo’s tentative distrust in regards to “The Will of Fire”, the founder of Konohagakure had been a respected man. It was an opinion he held through his own investigation of the past, and not because of any particular loyalty to the village. He’d founded the village, battled the Nine-Tails which was no easy feat, and had tried to broker peace, something even harder then battling the Kyūbi.

They carried on telling him about other notable summoners, and he was surprised to hear of one of his clansmen holding the contract- Uzumaki Fusō. A red headed medic-nin from what he had been told, and while she lacked the signature large chakra reserves notable of the Uzumaki Clan, specialised in healing chakra, hence her title as medic-nin. He had not been told how she had been killed, or if she had any descendants, but they’d highly respected her and seemed to miss her a lot when she passed.

Of course it brought up the question of what was the relation between the two of them- something that was difficult to determine courtesy of the destruction of Uzushiogakure. One day, he’d take Naruto to see the homeland of their mother and their clan: their legacy, living on within them, deserved to be honoured. That, and Mitsuo wanted to learn more about their Clan, even if it was just possibly the two of them.

_“But our last contract is the first time we did not see the true side of our summoner. And it was the last time we accepted a contract. It’s ironic that one person’s actions destroyed our entire bond with humanity, making us just like the Bijū: and it’s unsurprising that we eventually followed the same fate- we just chose the path of recluses instead of the path of aggression.”_

So instead of facing it, and facing the potential hurt head on and learning from it, they ran away, hiding themselves. _Even though I disagree with the actions they took, I can understand why. Sometimes I want to hide away from the village, but because of my few precious people, I don’t. Some of the village took Shisui away from me, but not all of them did: the innocents do not deserve to suffer because of it._

_Still, nobody is truly innocent in Konoha- even the civilians have a part to play in the treatment inflicted upon my brother and I: and they are lucky that neither of us are malevolent in nature- otherwise there would be more than one “fox outbreak.” by now._

“ _What of you and your clan history, Uzumaki? Do you know of your kin? Of your history?”_

He shook his head slowly, rolling his shoulders, giving away nothing but a calm demeanour. Though his mother and father’s identity was supposed to be an S-Ranked secret, there was nothing in place to stop him from telling the komainu. Still, wary of listening ears- he knew nothing beyond the fact that Sankisubarē was an island, he knew not where.

“My father was a clanless shinobi, powerful but the last. My mother was an Uzumaki, a survivor of Uzuschio, the presumed last of her clan. Myself and my brother are the end point of the Namikaze-Uzumaki bloodline.”

Though she did not outwardly show any change of pace, there was the briefest recognition alight in her sunny eyes, but Mitsuo didn’t think much of it. His father had been the Yondaime, and considering that he was the only one in Shinobi history to bear the name “Namikaze” it didn’t take much process of elimination to figure out who said person had been. And while the Uzumaki Clan had once been big, there was only one red-headed clan member who had married a Namikaze. So, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.

“ _I see. Come, I will teach you some Fire Release techniques- my mate will teach you Water Release techniques tomorrow.”_

Mitsuo followed her, not realising that she was deep in thought. He’d find out what soon enough- but at the forefront of his mind was his brother, and his fists twitched reflexively.

_I’ll be home soon Naru. I’m sorry for being such an awful brother._

As if a weight had been lifted, even just slightly, he stood up slightly taller, feet following behind Taniko as he pursued his eagerness to learn.

_Just you wait. I’ll have so many tricks in my repertoire that I’ll be able to help you through school with ease- you won’t have to worry._

That was what was important in the end: Naruto could have a close to decent childhood as Mitsuo could provide, and he wouldn’t have to struggle his way through it if Mitsuo could help it- he’d be there to guide him every step of the way, being there when their parents couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has had a good Christmas and New Year!


	19. A Contract Between Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For summons with a lack of opposable thumbs, they helped me quite a bit with chakra control- enough that I could do a few techniques that I couldn't before. Their techniques, which didn't require hand seals, were useful in more than one area, and they helped me quite a bit on later missions.
> 
> My chakra control was still somewhat shot, because I was never really told how to control it, but I would learn- it'd just take a while."

If Mitsuo thought Mamoru was gruff, then Tanomu was completely unapproachable. He was the epitome of a cactus, prickling and offensive, having a few days where he'll flower, and the rest of the time colder than the Land of Iron. The komainu was littered with scars, looming over Mitsuo with the ferocity of a pissed-off Bijū. And he knew what one of those looked like.

His fur was like ash, the carnage produced by the hottest of fire jutsu, scorching anything, whether it was flesh or skin, sticking to you and leeching at you. It was as if the remainders of a fire had caught itself in the tangles of his mane, staining him. His skin was like the depths of an ocean, making the scars impossible to see at first glance, only becoming clearer the longer you stared.

"How many Water Release techniques do you know?"

"None."

He answered bluntly. He knew none- basic or otherwise. He'd just never been able to get a hold of any scrolls that worked for him, or otherwise. He had never asked Itachi to teach him his water technique, because he didn't want to copy his entire repertoire, and he needed a simpler one to learn first, to get a hold of handling water.

Plus, not only was Itachi grieving, but he was busy with everything else going on in his life. The last thing he needed was to teach Mitsuo. Especially with him being more then able to teach himself if he could get a hold of a scroll. Sure, it would be harder considering his primary affinity was wind, and his secondary being in fire and lightning, but it wasn't impossible.

Still, he wanted to learn them, he just hadn't been able to- so now that he had the option, he was going to seize it with both hands.

"What do you get taught at that Academy?"

He remarked, with a distasteful curl of his lip. _Not much,_ he thought to himself with distaste, _if you happen to be a Jinchūriki._ Still, he could hardly say that, and it wasn't the kind of thing you explain to someone you distantly know. Besides, since they used to respect the Bijū, they likely wouldn't understand the ostracization they experienced.

"Most of what we learn, we learn practically."

There was another humph at the evasive answer. Still, Tanomu grumbled like the grumpy grandfather of the family, not outright hating but not exactly warm and fuzzy. But Mitsuo was fine with that- it was more than enough that he was being taught- he didn't need someone to be nice to him. Because after all, a gruff exterior was nothing compared to what he experienced by the village.

"This will be a waste of my time but come- I have some scrolls left here by some of my previous summoners. You will learn one of them, I don't care which."

Well, at least the elder komainu was correct in thinking that. He was going to learn them, even if it catapulted him across a training ground: it's not like it hadn't happened already. He dipped his head in acknowledgement as he followed behind the stern komainu leader.

"Yes Tanomu-sama."

* * *

"Do you think he's-?"

Taniko asked from where she stood, watching the new arrival to Sankisubarē train in the small clearing. He had sat for the first twenty minutes or so, studying the scroll that Tanomu had dug out from the archive, an edited version of one of their own jutsu. It was difficult to learn for even those who had a water affinity, but for someone who didn't. It was an additional challenge.

Most people would have given up by now if they were not strong of will, but he kept going, stringing together complex hand-seals in an attempt to get the picky technique working. The boy, young but with an air of someone much older, would be the youngest they would take on if he proved himself worthy,

the newest in their contract since the Third Shinobi War.

The boy- Mitsuo- reminded Tanomu of someone he'd met briefly during the war, when he'd been summoned to fight by the summoner. Mitsuo had hair the colour of the sun, bright and sharp, sticking out everywhere like his own mane. With eyes the colour of the ocean, pure but also holding something dark, he looked easily identifiable.

While neither komainu knew much about teenage boys- especially one as young as the one they found themselves observing- it wasn't subtle how he was thin as a stick. They had experience with shinobi and were aware that they were naturally lean- they had to be with the combat and training they went through- but they weren't supposed to be _that_ lean.

"I think so, though it is difficult to determine. It's not as if he's told us."

Though wary of the boy who had suddenly appeared in their place, he seemed to be honest, if a bit quiet. They had not let him stay out of the kindness of their hearts- not wanting to be hurt again- but they were called the guardian lions for a reason. He'd been injured, and he was just a child- he got a bit more leniency than an adult would.

And when they'd given him the chance to prove himself, he'd certainly not shied away from the hardwork. He'd put his best effort into learning the teachings they'd given him, had hunted for not just himself, but all of them. He hadn't complained once about his living space, perfect for a komainu but not so much a human.

Even when it came to things that was not normally an easy thing for humans- using chakra techniques with no hand signs, doing techniques that would normally involve several people single-handedly, and practising to near injury. He was stubborn and determined. But amongst that, he smelt unbalanced, and not in the chakra terms of things.

He smelt like the bitter and twisted scent of grief; the scent recognisable like the smell of blood. Neither komainu had brought this up, because while they weren't the best fan of humans, they weren't going to poke open wounds. They knew better than that, and he'd been a respectful guest so far. Still, it hadn't stopped them from sending Miyako to the village to see what they could find.

Not that she could find much, because Konoha seemed to keep most secrets about Uzumaki Mitsuo wrapped up tightly, but their stealthiest member of the pride found a way.

"Well, would you? You wouldn't want to bring up your deceased kin, would you?"

The point was a prudent one. He was only thirteen years of age, and already an orphan. It was no secret that being a shinobi was a dangerous business: they'd certainly experienced the lifestyle as summons. And while it wasn't uncommon for parents to outlive their children, it was rarer the other way around, especially considering that they'd been in peace talks.

Besides, if they were right in their suspicion of who exactly Mitsuo was born to, then he'd never die willingly- not that anybody would. But he had been strong with a sense of right and wrong that paralleled the best of the world. Had they come across him again, he would have been given their summoning contract: because there was no man that epitomised one for all and all for one then Namikaze Minato.

"He's deceased? He seemed to be going strong last I saw."

"Well, we've not left Sankisubarē in the best part of twelve years. But yes, from what Miyako has found out, he died sealing Kurama into him and his brother."

Tanomu's eyes widened, directing his gaze from the boy still practising the jutsu to his mate, and then back again. They could sense the fox within him, but they hadn't realised he was halved. It took someone of great power to split a Bijū like he did: and it looked like the boy had significant control over himself.

Not over the Tailed Beast, because nobody could _truly_ control a Bijū, but over his emotions for the most part. Still, finding out that Kurama, the wisest of the Tailed Beasts and the most powerful of them all- the fox may have given himself that title, but it was true to some extent- had decided to decimate a village, well, it was uncharacteristic of the fox.

The last time he'd done that, it had been back in the Sage's time, courtesy of one Uchiha Madara.

Tanomu side-eyed her with a measuring look, one that was both analytical and curious. She knew that look well enough- when they'd been together for as long as they had. It was the look that he wore when he was reluctantly thinking about something he didn't want to entertain, and he was so easily read.

"I know what you're thinking."

Tanomu growled deep within his throat, not angry but vaguely non-committal. Gruff as he may be, he did have a fondness for children, in a distant kind of way. Especially one as driven as the boy they were observing now.

Even as he tried and failed, only to try and fail again, he never uttered a curse or even entertained the thought of giving up.

"He's going to have a lot of challenges in his life."

She turned her head at the unspoken acceptance in the statement. He growled again, and Taniko swatted him at the back of his head. The little cub who had nobody to speak of but his brother, so eager to protect him that he gave up any semblance of a childhood. He rolled his eyes but with a yawn, coiled the muscles in his legs as he prepared to leap down the cliff face.

"We'll give him a chance- _one._ If he turns out unfaithful to the contract, nothing will save him."

Taniko nodded in agreement because that was fair enough. Though he presented himself as the know-all, sagely leader of them all, he was just like the rest of them- he took betrayal deep within his soul and had never truly recovered from the past. Just Mitsuo being here was chance enough that they needed to give humans a second chance- especially when he was the most recent one to appear at Sankisubarē.

"That is fair."

She agreed smoothly, knowing that she wasn't going to get a better negotiation for the small fox. Turning away as Tanomu scaled down the cliff, she couldn't help but glance at her mate one more time, as he appeared by Mitsuo's side, the boy turning to face him. She could only hope the boy didn't blow it, because they did not forgive easy, and she'd rather not be disposing of a leaf nin's body because he didn't understand basic etiquette.

* * *

"Water is hard, and it is fast. It is not forgiving, and it is not slow. In order to control water, you must be decisive, swift enough to get ahead and control it. It is not like the other natures and will always try to take its own route. You need to tell it otherwise."

That didn't make much sense, but Mitsuo was running out of options. Water was wily, and it was fast just like Tanomu had said- but no matter what, he couldn't get it to do anything. It formed on his hand, as slimy and as uncomfortable as ever, but it would never do what he wanted it to do. The idea for this jutsu was that he would form two different waves, short and tall, crashing and overlapping, sending a tidal wave covering the land in a large sweeping motion.

True to Tanomu's words, there had been a whole heap of scrolls, some he'd been kept far away from, watched from the shadows. Mitsuo was curious to learn, but he wasn't stupid: attempting to read some of the sealed scrolls that he was kept away from was a bad idea for both his health and overall life expectancy. There were some things, that people shouldn't learn.

When he'd been guided to the water selection, they'd all had the same kind of handwriting, the parchment looking old but mostly intact. There were long-distance water jutsu, short-distance, protective, and even the occasional trap-like one. He was only allowed to pick one, and he'd picked it carefully.

He had plenty of long-range jutsu, so he'd steered away from those. Between his vacuum sphere and fireball techniques, he had long distance covered. Earth wall protected him decently despite his lack of affinity with earth, and if that failed, then his thick fog technique had him covered for substitution.

There was however, besides a lack of wind techniques, a lack of close-range jutsu. He had his wind clones, but they were easy to disperse, and in the long term, limited. His taijutsu was a strength of his, but he'd yet to figure out whether he could augment his strikes with his wind nature- they tended to sway his strikes and misguide them.

He'd yet to figure out how to counterbalance the effect without swaying.

But yes, there was a distant lack of close combat jutsu, which was something he was planning to improve upon when he could. This is where _colliding waves_ came in handy. It swept the immediate area around him, while converging on a fixed point- the target.

And, if Dog happened to set fire to his kitchen again, well now he had a water jutsu to throw at it.

But at the minute, while he had memorised the hand seals, the waves just wouldn't form. They'd build up and up and up, but then collapse when he tried to push them together on a point- the point being a tree that had been chosen as a sacrifice.

"Too much chakra. Not enough control- courtesy of the Kyūbi. Try reducing your chakra and sculpting it."

It was easier said than done. Chakra escaped him like the flood of water, not a drop at a time, more like a rapid flood. To control it was difficult because he'd never been taught an effective way to do so. Like everything he knew, it was trial and error, which probably meant he'd learned a lot of bad habits. Still, Shisui and Itachi had trained him out of the worst ones, the ones that were highly detrimental to shinobi. And if they were really that bad, then he never would have passed the Genin Exam, let alone the chūnin one.

Still, he imagined his chakra as a tap, pressing drop by drop out instead of the gushing flow it was. Chakra control was something that _genin_ learnt, yet it was still difficult for him: there was so much chakra within him, control was complicated at times. The less he had, the easier it was to control- but it was hardly a good idea to burn all his chakra- a monumental feat barring attempting to practise the Hiraishin- right before a battle.

He ran through the hand seals that had been written in the scroll, forcing them quickly and fluidly like the flow of water, fingers shifting from one to the other with all the practise of a trained shinobi. Tanomu leaned over him, his height imposing and intimidating, watching with all the air of a disgruntled jōnin. He'd certainly been on the receiving end of that before.

Water pooled around his feet, as he kept his concentration, still running through the technique as the water slowly built up around his feet, growing in height. Keeping his chakra balanced while running through an unfamiliar jutsu was difficult, but he managed it, and soon, the water was reaching above his head.

It got a bit higher than last time, but it still came crashing down a few seconds in. Curling his fist and beginning to go through it again, Tanomu placed a heavy paw on his shoulder, almost pushing him down. Mitsuo turned to face him as Tanomu lowered his paw again, and he sat on his haunches, staring at him with icy eyes.

"Add dragon, tiger, hare, to the beginning."

He did as Tanomu requested, not questioning the order. He continued in sequence, until the waves were growing again, and they held once he finished the seals. He directed it towards the tree, and both waves converged, smacking the tree with the crash of waves, the rushing of water. Tanomu looked at the tree once the water pooled around his feet, before shaking out his fur.

"That's useful for washing your brother but not so much for enemies. Add more power."

There was a twitch of a grin on Mitsuo's stoic face because he hadn't even thought about using it to bathe Naruto. It would be entertaining nonetheless: but he would be better to concentrate on mastering it at first. They ran through the jutsu a few more times as the sun came down, and Mitsuo hadn't even thought about Shisui since arriving here.

_I can't allow Shisui's death to be in vain._ He curled his fist as he sat up in his bed the following night. _He wouldn't want me to mope, no matter how much I miss him- I'll honour him for every day I live that he didn't._ The note was a sombre one, the message having some emotional weight on him. Yet, it was also freeing at the same time, and he could almost imagine the sun whirling around like Shisui's Mangekyō. _I'll work hard to uphold what he wanted, because in the end, he was right- the civilians are what matters, not the names behind the clans._

He wasn't ready to forgive the village, nor would he likely ever be for a while. But for all they hurt him and his brother, for all he loathed the village and was tempted to go rogue, he would never agree to slaughtering them.

It was a shame that someone wouldn't share his newfound ideal.


	20. The Komainu Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Signing the contract was symbolic to me. And excited, I admit. Being the first to sign the komainu contract in over twelve years, I felt unique- like I had never felt before. Being almost branded as a traitor upon my return wasn’t quite so pleasant, and I missed my hawk that had been killed doing my bidding. Sankisubarē had been both a learning and a telling experience- because it also reminded me that the village wasn’t always honest- a reminder I didn’t think I had needed.”

"Cub. It is best you return to your village before they think you are going rogue."

Anybody who knew Mitsuo would know that for as long as Naruto was in the village, he would never stray. Still, he longed to return to Naruto- it had been what, a week since he'd last seen him? He could only hope that his brother was alright and that he'd not had too much trouble. Still, Itachi and Sasuke would look after him, as Mitsuo had done the same for him many a time.

It was difficult to balance the life between a chūnin and being a big brother. He'd known that getting into it. But earning money without being a shinobi was something difficult- many civilian careers weren't accessible to him, and not just because of his age- being a Jinchūriki didn't help either.

The balancing of money inflow and spending time raising Naruto was an intricate one, because Mitsuo seriously struggled with both. What was better? Naruto having everything he could ever need, but barely have him around, or Mitsuo being around him all the time, but very little money? By the time it got through everything, being divvied up, there was enough to last him a month or two- for him and Naruto, half a month if he was careful. Longer missions paid more, but such long term missions were out of his reach.

Still, Mitsuo needed to get back to the village, to see his brother, and Itachi. Things had been tentative with his clan before he left, and the Uchiha's were two of the few people that actually cared whether he lived or died. Taniko and Tanomu stared at him, with twin sets of eyes. Mitsuo was unsure what to think about the komainu leaders- did they actually care about him, or did they want to use him to further their own agenda?

They'd made no attempts to harness the Kyūbi inside him, and they'd had plenty of chances to. He did not trust easily, and he did not offer it lightly. But if someone proved themselves to him, then they'd never shake his loyalty. He was like Naruto in that way- a trait that despite his icy personality, he wasn't too sad to keep.

He bowed formally, blue eyes flickering from the ground to matching their gaze. They looked at one another, sharing a silent conversation that Mitsuo wasn't privy to.

"Thank you for your hospitality and your teachings. I will use them to further my career and protect those I love."

Admittedly, the delivery was a bit stilted and impersonal, but the sentiment was there. They nodded, but in front of them, what looked like a scroll. From where he stood, he couldn't make out the intricate writing, but he could sense faint traces of chakra within the paper, forged deep and just as alive as it had been when it had originally been written.

"This is our contract. You are our first summoner in seventeen years: this is a great honour and we do not take abuse of this contract lightly. Do you agree to care for and treat your summons with the care that you bestow upon your people? Do you vow to never mistreat us under threat of death, and protect us as we protect you?"

Perhaps, someone would think more over the terms, but they weren't any problem for Mitsuo. He understood that it was a great honour for any summoning contract, let alone ones who had made themselves reclusive. Treating them right was nothing difficult for him, because he knew what it was like to be mistreated. It was big words to say, but if he could help it, he'd never let anyone be mistreated. Nobody, barring Naruto, knew mistreatment as well as he did.

The words that Tanomu spoke had a tone of disinterest, like he didn't care. But it was a lot more then that. Mitsuo nodded with his eyes narrowed, bowing ever so slightly and staring at them with a confident gaze.

"Under my name, Uzumaki Mitsuo, and my honour as a chūnin of Konohagakure, I swear to abide by these terms, and never break them. I swear this upon pain of death."

Taniko nodded, pushing the contract forwards with her paw, accepting his swear of allegiance. He looked up at them, as he pulled out his three-pronged kunai, pressing his thumb on the blade just enough to draw blood. If he pushed too much, then he'd get to find out how quick his healing was. It was the best and least painful way- because though he wasn't scared of blood in any way or form, he couldn't bring it to himself to bite into his left thumb and tear into his flesh to bleed. Putting his kunai away, he slowly and carefully drew his name onto it, the name still staring back at him as a reminder that it was not his name.

The blood quickly darkened and was absorbed into the contract, and soon in intricate ink-like handwriting, his name joined the short list, proving himself as the summoner of the komainu.

Uzumaki Mitsuo.

* * *

That aside, his return to the village wasn't nowhere near as successful. Flanked by Miyako, who stuck by his side and attempted not to gaze at the tall buildings of the village, he strolled through and got through the gates with an instruction to report directly to the Hokage.

The jōnin at the gate spoke with their usual curl of their lips, the beginnings of _monster_ or _yako_ or _Kyūbi_ on their lips, and it was all he could do to drag her away before he became the first summoner to lose the komainu and the last one to sign the contract ever.

It was a heavier weight than most would think. Upon him, he reflected the komainu's trust in humanity- if he messed up, it was highly likely that they'd never be trusted. Still it meant explaining to the naive Miyako why exactly he was treated the way there were.

"It's because of the Kyūbi. They're scared after he attacked our village some years ago- they blame us because of it."

His voice had dropped to a hush as he turned into their apartment, the small and comfy thing it was. Sure, the summons were for right away, but his brother who hadn't seen him in ten days was more important- if only to reassure him that he was fine. Naruto didn't need to know about the band of 50 men he'd come across- all missing-nin - and Naruto didn't know how close he'd came to being skewered.

"Humans claim that they are accepting, but they are obviously not: You're not the Kyūbi- you're his Jinchūriki."

He'd made the same argument before, not that it made any difference. His house didn't look any different then what it did last time he saw it, no burnt cinders or broken glass anywhere. No doubt one of the ANBU were waiting on the roof, observing him blatantly not going straight to the Hokage. It didn't bother him as much as it ought of. Pushing the key into the lock, and turning it as Miyako coiled between his legs, he started to turn the key.

There was no changing people's beliefs unless you were willing to change yourself. And even then, they would hold whatever misdeed over you, regardless of what you did to atone. No matter how many missions he took, the people he tried to help, the good results he kept bringing back, it still remained that the only place where he was truly accepted was outside the village where they didn't know of his status as Jinchūriki.

"I know that, you know that. But try telling _them_ that."

He pushed open the door, trying to keep the resentment from his voice. It was in the later stages of the morning in which he arrived, and Naruto should be awake by now. The house looked fairly clean, despite Naruto's messy habits, and he couldn't help but idly wonder if Itachi had been in to clean it up a bit. He couldn't imagine _Dog_ of anyone, to come in and clean their house.

"Naruto?"

He called out, voice soft but loud enough for Naruto to hear. He waited one second, two seconds, before a blur of yellow hair and orange pajamas hurled themselves at him, wrapping his arms around Mitsuo's waist and squeezing.

Miyako growled in warning, but Mitsuo calmed her with a wave of his fingers, still being slowly squeezed to death by Naruto's bone-crunching hugs- if he kept that strength when he became a shinobi then he'd be a hell of a force to deal with.

"MITSUO! I was so worried 'ttebayo!"

Mitsuo's hands found themselves in the curls of Naruto's hair, which was wild and untamed, golden curls reaching out in every direction, the locks soft and fluffy. Breathing in the sunshine that was Naruto, his brother pulled away, finally noticing Miyako, who was watching with a different expression on her face. The relation between him and Naruto was blatantly obvious: if not the blue eyes, then the whisker-like birthmarks, and the electric yellow hair.

Then again, he said the same about his father and the two of them, but nobody seemed capable of putting two plus two together and get four.

Naruto's hand curled in a fist, and the next thing Mitsuo knew, he was catching brother's fist just because it could strike his face. His eyes widened in surprise, as Mitsuo carefully dropped it, analysing his brother's facial features. Naruto was an open book- something that wasn't helpful in a career like becoming a shinobi, but a selfish part of him hoped he never lost it- and right now, his blue eyes were hardened, like flinty stones, and his teeth were gnashed together.

_I deserve a lot worse then a punch, leaving him alone for longer then I said I would._

He picked up Naruto's fist, uncurling it, circling his palm, and curling it again, wrapping his hand around the knuckle. While Naruto was right handed, he'd gone to punch with his left, which would be significantly weaker. It implied that while he wanted to enunciate his point- likely his feelings surrounding how Mitsuo lied in how long it would take him to get back from the mission, and his unexplained absence- he didn't want to seriously hurt his other brother.

"Punch like this Naruto- the other way, and you'll break your knuckles."

Perhaps it was time that his brother started learning basic taijutsu. He trusted him not to attack anyone who didn't deserve it, and it would make Mitsuo feel better knowing that if something happened, Naruto could defend himself- even just a little. Perhaps, in an ideal world, Naruto and Mitsuo would have grown up with their parents, free of persecution, of the hate that surrounded Konohagakure. But this wasn't a perfect world, and more of a realistic one, where life was hard, and growing up was harder.

Naruto nodded, and pulled back his wrist to punch him. Mitsuo made the universal signal for stay- the last thing he wanted was his summon to attack his brother- and planted himself like a tree, forcing himself to remain still and not dodge out of the way of the incoming attack. The force from the punch pushed his jaw to the side, teeth rattling in their gums as Mitsuo blinked, the punch being more painful then he thought it would be. It might have bruised once, in his first years of life, but now, it wouldn't even hurt after five minutes. It would have been awkward to explain why his brother had punched him.

"I deserved that."

As he resettled his jaw, Naruto burst into floods of tears, eyes watering and a wail emerging from his form. Mitsuo's mouth downturned even further, his eyes softening, as Naruto uncurled his fist, flinging himself, limbs flailing, towards him. His arms immediately found themselves curling around Naruto's back, and they stayed like that for a few moment, Mitsuo whispering soothing words into his hair, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I'm sorry that I've been away so often. I'm sorry that I left you alone."

Naruto pulled back, and Mitsuo looked at his knuckles, running his thumb along them. He knew no medical jutsu, though he doubted he'd be able to do it all, with his lack of control, but his knuckle looked fine, nothing broken, nothing bruised. He definitely knew what broken knuckles looked like, and his brother didn't know the meaning of the word "pain-tolerance" which meant that it'd be fairly easy to figure out when he was in pain.

"That was a good punch."

Mitsuo stretched his sleeve, wiping Naruto's tears away, as he looked up at him with big baby blues. Nothing made him feel worse then upsetting his brother, no matter how much pain he received, the insults he got. The thing was, Naruto didn't even realise the effect he had, which was somewhat endearing.

"I'm sorry Mitsuo!"

Naruto cried, and Mitsuo shook his head, crouching down, as Miyako brushed against the right hand side of his leg, sitting, tail flicking across the floor lazily, slowly. He knew he'd better dismiss her soon- she needed to get back to her family, and she'd only really stayed to meet the Hokage, to almost "prove" that he had in fact, ended up in Sankisubarē, and that he hadn't ran off.

Still, he'd followed protocol, sending a missive, making sure it was sealed, and sent it promptly via summonable hawk. It wasn't an official summon per se, they weren't able to join them in combat, but every shinobi got their own one once they hit chūnin. They were used to send missives- because they were bred to be fast and fleet, able to fight off a few enemies, but also subtle. Now, there shouldn't be any debate over his actions, although there'd likely be an inquest into the mission- while he'd expected resistance, he hadn't expected a force of fifty missing-nin.

"It's okay Naruto. You don't need to be sorry: after all, I was the bad brother who lied."

He paused, looking at Miyako, in all her glory, as she ruffled her fur, scratching at it with her front paw, grooming herself.

"I made some friends while I was away- let me introduce to one of them."

* * *

Naruto _adored_ Miyako. The komainu, though reluctant, let Naruto run his hands through her fur. To his credit, instead of leaping in like he normally would. He did understand meaning of personal space: it's just sometimes his enthusiasm went overboard, and he forgot about the unspoken social rule. It was quite surprising how he forgot about the social rule, considering that nobody went near the two of them, apart from Itachi and… _Shisui_. Dog wasn't one to stick close, more likely to just oversee from a distance.

Socialising Naruto was always something Mitsuo struggled with. He knew the importance of it, but he also knew that there were many people who wanted him for his half of the Fox, or resented him because of the death of the Yondaime.

It was hard to socialise Naruto, because it wasn't as if Mitsuo could rely on his own experiences. He'd been socialised within a small circle- Hyūga Osoku being one of them. Mitsuo thought he'd understand how he felt because of his experience with the caged bird seal, but his so called friend resented him and was terrified of him, saying they were two different things.

Hyūga Osoku had been someone he'd talked to, never been particularly close with, but they talked. While his parents had honestly wanted to teach him social skills, they'd also seen it as an opportunity to build up inter-clan relationships. And it had worked- albeit it not for long. Any kind of clan loyalty went out the window when Osoku had ignored him after the Kyūbi massacre.

He'd been one of the many unlucky people who lost his parents to the attack, and not only could he not separate Mitsuo from the Kyūbi, but the fact that he actively resented Mitsuo for his seal. It was a complex situation, and while he'd not told Mitsuo exactly, from what he had worked out, he had been jealous of the fact that his seal did not impair his abilities at all, that he could operate just fine, without any additional strings.

It was safe to say, he didn't consider the Fox's influence when it came to the seal, and how he could very well lose himself if he lost his temper, something the Third had told him almost immediately upon Mitsuo sitting in his office, baby Naruto in his arms, small but quietly asleep.

Then there had been Hagimi Yamanaka. A quiet girl, afraid to say boo to a goose. She was one of the first girls that he'd been introduced to, even though she'd always been embarrassed in front of his Mom, her boisterous attitude clashing with her shy personality.

She hadn't been hostile, and she'd actually treated him like a normal human being- she treated him just like she had before. The fact that they weren't friends anymore was partially his fault, he could admit it. It had been a trying time, when they'd been put into an apartment, because Mitsuo wasn't willing for them to be separated.

He'd bared his teeth, his eyes sting and dark, and he started down Lord Third at six years old, body shifted to protect his brother, and demanded that they weren't separated. With her parents banning her from talking to him- so many doors that had been open to him before had been shut in his face- and Mitsuo being busy training by himself and raising his brother, both of them had just pulled apart. While they'd talk if they came across one another in the street, he wouldn't share his secrets with her, and vice versa.

There had been a few others, but they'd peeled away from him once parents started warning them away from _Uzumaki Mitsuo._ The name, in a way, hurt and stung like a brand, leeching away at him like a poison. In his young mind, he hadn't quite understood. Uzumaki Mitsuo and Namikaze Mitsuo were the same person, so why did they like Namikaze Mitsuo and not Uzumaki Mitsuo? But they weren't the same person, in fact they were different: it just took him a while to realise it.

Mitsuo understood the theory of changing his identity, but most people recognised him. It might work for those outside of Konohagakure, but it wasn't so concrete inside the village. The law about not speaking about the Kyūbi had been passed, but it didn't protect them as much as it stifled them. They couldn't learn about being Jinchūriki because nobody was allowed to tell them that, and most people already knew of that status.

It was completely secret, then they'd be able to walk amongst the others without stones dashing their skin, without Mitsuo being angled to protect his brother, that Naruto didn't have to learn what the word "monster" meant, and why he was called it.

It never failed to anger Mitsuo when he realised that had he been the same age as Naruto, or hadn't been born, then it was likely that Naruto would have grown up like Mitsuo himself had, except he would Have never known of his parents, the tales of his Haha's red hair and their Chichi's secret technique. He wouldn't have known that he had been loved, and that his father hadn't sealed the Kyūbi into him out of hate, but because he knew Naruto could handle the burden.

That Naruto wouldn't know why he was hated so much, just kicked aside and discarded. The mere thought made him angrier than anything, and briefly made the thought of releasing the Fox tempting, but he knew he would never. Fire burned through his pathways, corroding him from the inside out in a Hot burst of flame, teeth biting his bottom lip until he tasted blood.

On those days, it wasn't uncommon to see a large pile of training bags, punctured or sliced or burnt or squashed like a limp sack, scattered across training ground 0, the arena itself covered in ash and dust.

While he respected the Third, he wasn't blinded by loyalty- he had made several mistakes. Mitsuo and Naruto had been forced to fend for themselves, because while a law to not talk about the Kyūbi had been passed, there had been no law to protect him and Naruto from persecution. There had been no enforcement on Mitsuo getting a valid teacher, nor getting a decent education, nor getting taught anything at all. The abuse on them went uncared for, not punished, not dissuaded, and it was as if Lord Third had washed his hands of them the minute they were out of his office.

He'd not met Itachi until the Academy, only because the Uchiha kept themselves to themselves, and Itachi had always been on the more withdrawn side of things. It was hard to believe now, especially considering his small group of friends, he'd once been like Naruto- a cheerful ray of sunshine who could talk to anyone, anything.

That personality had disappeared fairly quickly.

Still, Mitsuo did a very good job of sitting in the Hokage's office, keeping a hold on his emotions like Naruto kept a hold of ramen. Lord Third could be fair- but he could be distinctly unfair too, depending on what the matter at hand was. He was wary of the ANBU who were there, but knew that he'd done nothing to aggravate them, and hadn't gone against the village in any way or form. Miyako curled in amongst his shadow, undetectable. There was no feeling of her chakra, nothing that would inwardly give her away. Whether there was something else that could be sensed or not, he wasn't sure, but none of the ANBU seemed to be reacting to it.

"I would like you to explain your unexplained absence from the village."


	21. Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kakashi’s relationship with me was complicated to say the least. He’d reportedly had this relationship with me when I was young, but I had no memory of it. Maybe if I had, things would be different. Some things I remembered vividly when I was young, but many were ghostly imprints, fallen by the wayside. I remembered nothing of my father’s team, and very little of the war. And sometimes, I wondered, would that have made a difference when it came to the endgame?”

The words were surprisingly blunt for Hiruzen, but even Mitsuo’s eyes widened with shock- none of his training preparing him for such an accusation. It was no jest coming from the Hokage either- he was looking at him with worn eyes, tired, but nonetheless strict. The ANBU in the room, Dog, one who looked like a squirrel, with eerie eyes, short, rounded ears on the top of the mask, a few whiskers etched into it. There was one with a rounded mask, with rounded eyes to accompany it, a triangular mouth and gaunt cheeks. He had no idea what animal that mask was supposed to reference. Finally, there was one with a cat mask, rounded ears with a sharpened tip, whiskers going from nose to cheek.

Still, the fact that he’d not been pulled directly into the Hokage’s office, or worse, straight into T&I, was luck in itself. If he truly had been a traitor- which he wasn’t- then just letting him stroll into Konoha could have resulted in who knows what. A giant Fox rampaging throughout the village? A large invasion? Honestly, he was surprised he’d not been met with jōnin or even ANBU.

“...I’m sorry sir?..”

He asked, voice genuinely sounding confused as he stared at Hiruzen. He didn’t let anything out, keeping his look neutral and indeterminable. The ANBU remained frozen, the presence overbearing, forcing their will on him, as Mitsuo was all too aware that if he was proven guilty, he’d be apprehended, and he didn’t want to know what would happen to him in that case.

Hiruzen shuffled some papers, looking nonplussed as he adjusted a photograph, before returning his hand to his pen, dipping it in ink carefully. His hands moved across the papers, focusing on them and paying very little attention to Mitsuo. It was intimidating almost, because he could feel the eyes on him, analysing every move as if he was about to lunge and attack the Third.

_Was my missive not received?_ He’d sent it on the day of his first arrival of Sankisubarē to avoid this. He’d sent it to explain that he was going to be late in returning, and he’d written up his report over the several days at Sankisubarē. Asuga- which is what he’d called her- had never failed to deliver a message before.

Whether you bonded with an animal or not was up to the shinobi in question. He’d given her a name, and the occasional ball of bird seed. Most didn’t bother, because they wouldn’t help you in battle, and that one shinobi outlives many hawks. It was just a sad fact of life- and for that reason, they didn’t get attached.

Still, the fact that she seemingly failed to deliver it made him uncomfortable, a churning feeling in his gut that didn’t bare him well. He didn’t like where it was going.

“Your unexplained absence. You left approximately one week ago, in the middle of the afternoon, without informing anyone. I assume you are aware that this is against the interests of the village.”

Now he really didn’t like where it was going. _That_ implied that he didn’t even know about the mission he’d been given. The scroll was burning a hole in his pocket, even as his eyebrows furrowed together. Either the Hokage was getting forgettable in his age- which he very well might be, but even then, his advisors would remind him- or he’d been tricked.

“I thought I had received a mission from you. But if you don’t know about it, then it must have been from someone else. I have the scroll here if you want to see.”

He offered. He could have simply pulled it out earlier, but there could have been anything in his pocket, and he didn’t need to give _anyone_ the excuse to stab him, or slam seals on him. Or at least, any more seals. Hiruzen’s face become narrowed as he looked up from the ink, staring at him with a gaze that was intrigued. Nodding, he slowly reached into his pocket, watching the ANBU tensed, and feeling his shadow tighten in shape, and pulled out the scroll, sealed with both a confidentiality seal and a self-destruct seal.

Passing it over to Hiruzen, he carefully took it, analysing the seals before he did. He knew why- because had he opened it without looking, those seals could do anything as well. Mitsuo pulled back, relaxing- well not relaxing, slumping would be a better word- in his seat as the Hokage expertly undid the seals, unrolling the scroll and skim-reading it. He stared at it for a moment, before rolling it back up, passing it to “Cat” who accepted the scroll, pocketing it.

“Straight to the Cryptanalysis Team. Top secret, high priority. Find out who wrote this.”

With a nod, “Cat” disappeared in a swirl of leaves, taking the forged mission scroll with him. Hiruzen looked at him carefully, before cupping his hands, reading into him with something that Mitsuo didn’t recognise. It wasn’t often he found himself in an audience with the Hokage, even less when he was being accused of subterfuge and treason.

Well, he supposed, it was less treason now, and more an unintentional victim. He hadn’t questioned it, because it looked just like the Third’s handwriting, and it was stamped with his seal. He’d just taken it and ran with it without question. It was naive of him, he should have known to question it, or to ask questions.

It was impractical to ask the Hokage about every single mission that he received. After all, he wasn’t the only shinobi in the village, and the Hokage had better things to do then personally oversee every single person. That was what his subordinates were for. Still, there were chains of command that he could have gone for if he’d noticed that it was counterfeit, and he would have found out sooner that it was a redundant mission.

Which brought up the thought- what if it was a set up? Mitsuo was not a paranoid person, but there were plenty of attributes that added up to confirm that theory. One, every attack was non-lethal. The shuriken that had been thrown, the kunai he’d received to the thigh, even the earth style drone jutsu had been aimed at his arms and legs, never straying above his neck. He wasn’t keen on testing the Kyubi’s ability to heal a completely torn off arm.

He was valuable- not for his skills, not for his intel, but for the prisoner within him. Only having half wouldn’t matter- because half could still slaughter an army of jōnin and maybe even ANBU. Had he been the self-conscious type: really, he just wanted to be treated equally, and _that_ wasn’t going to happen any time soon, walking around the village did wonders for not giving a damn- then he might have felt a little demeaned, only wanted for the Fox, nobody caring about _Mitsuo._

Walking around a village that hated you certainly made you used to feeling like nothing, and he’d spent every waking moment actively telling Naruto that he _was_ something, that he _was_ Uzumaki Naruto, and nobody had the right to make him feel any lesser.

“Tell me what the mission was about.”

He went through a detailed description of his mission, from start to end- end being where he used the summoning jutsu to get away. Throughout it all, Hiruzen looked contemplative but serious, aged eyes never flickering away from Mitsuo for more then a second, and his hands sitting idly on the desk. He didn’t answer questions, and as the ANBU shuffled in the shadows, Miyako calmly hiding in the very same shadows, undetectable.

Or at least, he assumed so because there had been no demands for her to come out of hiding.

He didn’t embellish anything for his own glory, nor did he miss out details that painted him in a favourable light. There wasn’t much point in it either way: none of the information would leave this room, and a mission gone bad wouldn’t improve his reputation- if anything, it would likely decrease it.

He specifically mentioned that he sent off his letter, only to see Hiruzen startle slightly- well, startle wasn’t the most accurate word. His eyes widened just a little bit, before clamping down just as quickly, narrowing until he was the picture of the stern man known as _Shinobi no Kami_ for a reason. So, since he’d just about finished his verbal report- the written one resting in his pocket, just waiting to be handed to the Hokage- he asked his question, knowing that Hiruzen would be straight with him.

“Did you not receive my letter?”

It was simply worded, and out of all the questions, there was likely a better question to ask. But sometimes, one right question could prove more effective then a handful of other more complicated ones. He was only a chūnin, and he wasn’t privy to many S-Ranked secrets- well, he didn’t know any that didn’t directly involve him.

“No. I did not.”

“I sent it on the first day of my arrival.”

He pushed the point, for no other reason then the fact that he _didn’t_ want to be condemned as a traitor. It was likely pointless, because Hiruzen seemed to be believing him- but he didn’t want to be a pushover. He _refused_ to be made a traitor because he’d been tricked, and he refused to leave Naruto by himself in the village- he didn’t want to wait and see if Itachi or Dog would take him in.

Rather contradictory, Mituso liked blunt and simple answers- a yes or a no. He wanted a concrete answer that couldn’t be wriggled out of- people already thought of him and his brother as weapons, and any loophole could be a negative one- regardless of whether it was something as simple as a property deed (their one specifically had both Mitsuo and Naruto on it, so that if something were to happen to him, Naruto was still legally protected) or an inheritance will.

In the event that something happened to him, then Naruto was entitled to all of his monetary funds, both that of their shared inheritance, and his own monetary fund, to be given to him on a monthly stipend to allow him to live relatively comfortably.

Uchiha Mikoto had been all too happy to aid him with that, and even though she wasn’t sure whether he was too young to be thinking about in the event of his death, had made sure that his will was iron tight, so that there would be no legal wrangling out of it. Never one to leave a debt unpaid, he’d made her some cinnamon buns that Itachi had taken back with him- she could decide whether it was out of the kindness of his heart or as a payment for all she’d done for him over the years.

Mitsuo was prepared as prepared could be for his eventual death, and while it was common for many of those at his age, and young shinobi in general, he hoped he wouldn’t die young- not for himself, but for Naruto. He didn’t want to leave the care of his little brother, his _Otōto_ to a village that saw fit to leave them alone, to fend for themselves.

Hiruzen raised his hands, in the universal symbol for calm and peace, and though he was still wary, he backed down, the pushy attitude brimming in case it needed to resurface. He wouldn’t be outright disrespectful, but he was stubborn enough to not let himself be walked over if there was a flaw in Hiruzen’s planning.

Of course, his points likely wouldn’t be taken very well considering he was “a lowly, monstrous chūnin.” but if there was something that was going to affect him, or his brother, or his friends- such as him being suspended off of missions because of what happened- then he would speak up.

“Calm. I believe you. Turtle, go to the Aviary, ask them if they’ve seen Uzumaki-kun’s hawk. What was the name again?”

“Ayuga.”

Turtle nodded, disappearing in a swirl of leaves. He couldn’t settle not knowing what had happened to Ayuga, because he appreciated what she did. It was weird, because he felt attached in a way like a child would a pet. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do much but still, she did what she was trained to, and was just- well, she didn’t care that he had the Fox in him. She was just a hawk, but she was a _good one._

It said something when he found _animals_ more easy to befriend then his own species. Animals didn’t care about the circumstances of one’s birth, didn’t care about lineage. They might reject their young from time to time, he didn’t deny or condone that- but they were also known to adopt those not of their species. Humans could certainly learn from them.

“Now, I believe you mentioned something about a summoning contract?”

Mitsuo nodded, feeling the ripple of discontent from some of the ANBU in the room. Not that they tried very hard to hide their feelings, they were practically telegraphing it to him. There was no doubt that if they really wanted to keep their emotions secret, then Mitsuo most definitely wouldn’t know about them. Reaching into his pocket, he placed his handwritten report on the desk, making the moves slow and deliberate- normally, he’d hand the report to Mission Control, as per the usual course of action, but since the Hokage had an invested interest in his mission, he handed it over.

“Yes. I signed one with the komainu.”

If Hiruzen was surprised, he didn’t show anything, much as Mitsuo expected. Hiruzen looked up and down at him analytically, as though seeing something he wasn’t. They were quiet for a short time, and though Mitsuo was patient, there was still a part of him that was itching at the thought of staying stuck in a chair, even though it basically decided his own future.

“Dog. I’m assigning you to instruct Uzumaki-kun in how to care and treat for his summon partners, and how to work with them.”

It was Mitsuo’s turn to be surprised, and he felt like a fish out of water. It had been a long time since he’d had someone to be a proper teacher, and there was a flicker of fear. It was irrational, but the last time he’d been taught properly, in a formal setting, he’d been overlooked, forgotten about, and when he _had_ been taught, it had been with the dismissive attitude that he usually got treated with.

He’d been taught teamwork by _Itachi,_ not a formal tutor, not someone at the Academy, but _Itachi,_ the Uchiha Prodigy.

So to say he was nervous wasn’t going to be an understatement. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel like he was the trial run for his brother. It filled him with hope, but also upset him to some degree. Because while it meant that Naruto would have a slightly easier upbringing then he had, it meant that he was constantly falling by the wayside in favour of him. The emotion he was feeling, it wasn’t jealousy- how could he be jealous of his brother?- but he just felt like an experiment.

That it was okay if _he_ was messed up, because they got a second chance with Naruto.

“I expect you will have an appointment with T&I at some point in the coming days. Dog will be your teacher in the meanwhile- I expect you to continue with your other mission.”

Mitsuo nodded, taking the leave for what it was, standing up from where he was sitting, bowing slightly. He was tentative for what was going to happen, but right now, he just wanted to spend some more time with Naruto and the others, because he had some apologies to make. He also had a hawk to hunt down- and it just so happened that the starting point originated with Naruto.

“Dismissed.”

Mitsuo walked out of the room, rather anticlimactically. Hiruzen looked at the remaining ANBU in the office, dismissing them with the wave of his hand, but gesturing for Dog to stay. Though his emotions were hidden behind his mask, he was feeling a wave of emotions that he was expertly managing. He gave no emotions away, with or without the mask, hiding them as well as the ANBU did in their surroundings.

Hirzuen gave Dog a side long look, eyes furrowing as he analysed Dog’s mask, as though looking for cracks or chips in his armour. He wouldn’t find any, though his wary eye scanned everything, and his other burned from behind closed eyelids.

“Tell me, Dog. What do you think of that boy who just left?”

Uzumaki Mitsuo was like a ghost for Dog, for more than one reason. He was a miniature version of Minato-sensei, and that opened a wound that Dog was not ready to look at, or experience yet again. With bright blond hair and the charming blue eyes that Kushina-chan fell for- or at least, that was what Minato-sensei had said to the three of them- he was like an aspect of him.

Another reason was that Uzumaki-then Namikaze- Mitsuo that he’d once known like a otōto, wasn’t that boy he’d just seen in the Hokage’s office. Gone were the unruly curls, wild and untameable like Kushina’s had been, gone was the inquisitive nature where he’d ask questions about anything and everything. The boy in front of him was jaded, had everything that had made him a happy-go-lucky child torn out of him and reshaped into something else.

He was only about thirteen by now- a chūnin already- a prodigy of the highest standards, yet he looked like he carried the world on his shoulders. Though the life of a shinobi was not an easy one, he seemed to be running himself ragged far more than any other chūnin. Still, if he’d reached Chūnin without any kind of formal training- asides from scrolls that he’d just _left_ lying around- then it brought up the thought of what could he be like if he had some proper tuition.

“Though I cannot comment on his skills aside from his current rank, he seems heavily burdened and highly protective of his younger sibling. I see no sign of the Kyūbi adversely effecting him besides from an increased chakra reserve that surpasses the last recorded Uzumaki-Jinchūriki.”

Hiruzen nodded sagely, shuffling his papers as he looked at Dog, who was leaning by the window, rigid straight like a soldier to attention. He cleared his throat, and Dog was entirely unprepared for the words that came out of the Sandaime’s mouth.

“Effective immediately, I am retiring you from ANBU, and am assigning you to tutor Uzumaki Mitsuo in any area you believe he is lacking. You may still take missions, however your primary focus will be the Kyūbi's Jinchūriki. You will be paid for your work.”

Kakashi stared at him from behind his dog mask, feeling like he’d been bathed in a water jutsu for the first time in years. He was being given an excuse to train his sensei’s son? _Directly?_ Without any of the bullshit excuses like he’d used in the past? The Sandaime didn’t even miss a beat when he addressed Kakashi next, speaking while accompanied with weighted eyes.

“We failed him once, Kakashi- and while Naruto is our chance to get it right, it does not mean we can let Mitsuo fall to the wayside, Jinchūriki or not.”


	22. Back in School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kakashi may have been primarily Team 7’s sensei, but in a sense, he was mine as well. He may not have taught me as a genin, or as a chūnin, but he still taught me skills I used. He was strict but fair, and I respected him for that- even more so his ability to look past the fox and treat me as the person I wanted to be. Anyone like that deserved my respect- especially someone who went out of his way to help me: like he had been doing for years up until that standpoint.”

Kakashi was waiting in one of the training fields- or more accurately, in one of the surrounding trees, chakra heavily masked with a repelling seal applied on him- feeling oddly naked without the mask of dog to hide behind. Every interaction with the Uzumaki brothers he'd had, since Mitsuo turned six, had been behind the mask of Dog, who was silent and stoic and everything that Kakashi was, just amplified. Five-year-old Mitsuo was so different to the thirteen-year-old Mitsuo he knew of now- it wasn't right to say he _knew_ him- and he doubted this Mitsuo even remembered "big brother 'Kashi."

A part of him resented the Sandaime, for many reasons. For so easily slipping back into the role of Hokage after Minato-sensei died. For letting the two _newly orphaned_ brothers fall by the wayside so easily. Kakashi knew that they were valuable weapons, because of what Minato had to do to them, but they were also _children._ He had been fucked up by being in war at five years old, that had been duty enough, but at least he had people to go back to.

Mitsuo, at six years old, had found himself alone in the world, caring for his brother and sheltering him, with no support other than the orphan's trust he got every month. Mitsuo, who had to grieve and raise his brother at the same time, living on a paper-thin budget, had fought tooth and nail to both change his entire being, having his former identity _die._

And when the Hokage had made that law, a gag order forbidding anyone from speaking of the Kyūbi, had taken Mitsuo's identity as a _Namikaze_ and had warped it, fitting him into a new mould, he had just aided and abetted it. The Hokage should have known that the law wouldn't change how Mitsuo or Naruto were treated, and that while changing his identity might protect him outside the village, it did nothing to protect him on the inside of it.

And sometimes, those inside the village were far worse than the dangers outside of it.

Kakashi had helped through the years, had been the one to direct Itachi to Mitsuo in hope that the two outcasts would light a spark- his hunch had been right- and he'd been the one who dropped off images of Minato and Kushina. He'd left presents, money, scrolls. Odds and ends that could be easily "left" or easily "obtained" and Crow and Falcon aided with this.

But instead of just breaking through the rules, he was loyal to no one but Minato and Kushina, he'd stuck by them, letting them affect him and prevent him from providing aid and assistance to the little boy who had given Minato and Kushina so much trouble when he was young.

To sleepless nights- when Minato wasn't on the front line, pulling night shifts, he was pulling night shifts to let Kushina sleep- to finding the best places to hide, Mitsuo had provided a lot of stress on the two of them. But they had loved him, and Kakashi had loved the little boy that curled up in his arms, unaware of Kakashi's own heritage as _Nakamagoroshi no Kakashi_ , blinking innocent blue eyes up at him, grubby hands curling around him.

He hadn't been around much back then, something he regretted after everything went down, being distant and throwing himself into his position as ANBU, spending the nine months leading up to Naruto's birth making sure everything went off without a hitch.

Those nine months had evidently been a waste- his best _hadn't_ been good enough.

The boy that came shunshining into the training grounds, in a way that was reminiscent of Falcon, was not that same boy. He was wearier, as though he'd fought an entire war by himself, bags under his eyes, impossibly thin, even by a shinobi's standards. He looked around with eyes that likely saw just as much as the Sharingan, his form tense, ready to spring to action even though there was no threat.

Konoha was supposed to be where shinobi could relax, wind down after the stressful time they've had in the field. But Kakashi absently wondered if he ever knew the meaning of "relax" or if Mitsuo even knew he was broadcasting "stress, high alert" to anyone who looked. If this was just his normal posture, then it said a lot about how he was coping.

As a general rule, he always arrived late. Whether it was five minutes or two hours depended on the person and the task. On one hand, he wanted to test Mitsuo's patience, see how far that rope would go before it snapped back, but on the other, he'd waited _years_ to just talk to him. He may not be his brother by blood, but he thought of him as such- even if he didn't deserve that title.

Minato had looked after him when he'd been an unruly thirteen-year-old, stood by him as he lost his father, Obito, Rin. He'd been his father figure, for all intents and purposes. That made Mitsuo and Naruto his kin, his pack. He'd made him wait for over seven, eight years now, and he wasn't going to make him wait too much more, even though Kakashi deserved the torture.

It took about until half an hour past the time of arrival, but Mitsuo had just sat down, cross-legged, waiting with coiled muscles. Compared to Naruto, who could barely keep off him the last time he went to visit under the guise of Dog, Mitsuo was more reclusive, _cold._ Nothing like the warm and bubbly behaviour of Naruto, the friendly and excitable behaviour of Kushina, the proud and encouraging nature of Minato.

Kakashi couldn't directly compare Mitsuo to his father, despite the evident looks. They were two different people. But while Mitsuo and his brother had evidently gotten the large Uzumaki reserves- only made larger thanks to the Kyūbi- it was difficult to tell what _else_ they had inherited. His focus was on Mitsuo right now- Naruto could come once he'd gotten into the Academy.

He knew he was wind natured, and he'd gotten to chūnin despite the lack of a genin team: being privately assessed by one of the jōnin that had been handpicked to have no particular bias- either negative or positive- towards him. That had been difficult, but not unmanageable.

Still, Mitsuo had always seemed to be acutely aware of those around him, which made Kakashi curious- was he a sensor like his father? It would take a fine degree of chakra control to do, and some way to channel that- Minato-sensei had always used a point of contact within the earth to channel it. Kushina had always said she could sense negative emotions without even trying, a part of what the Kyūbi bequeathed to her.

If Mitsuo _was_ a sensor, it explained how he could always sense whenever someone was watching him from the rooftop, no matter how well the ANBU tried to hide.

They always kept Kyūbi talk away from the eldest Uzumaki brother, not wanting to scar him with stories of blood and fear and the urge to destroy. It had been both a good idea and a bad one- because whatever Mitsuo knew about the Kyūbi, he'd learned it from observation and experience.

He had no idea what _could_ happen, no idea of what the effect of it had on him and was alone in what he experienced.

That was something for him to be aware of, as while a Sharingan could tame the beast, it was not easy. The last thing Kakashi wanted was for Mitsuo to run rampant and give Konoha an excuse to exterminate him. He'd be damned if Minato's son was killed because of him.

"Maaa. You're very patient there, Mitsuo-kun."

He watched Mitsuo's eyes flickering around, subtly looking around in a way where you observed but not obviously so. Subtlety was definitely a shinobi's best weapon, and while Mitsuo was being very restrained in how he glanced, but for ex-ANBU, especially one with the Sharingan- though it was obscured behind his hitai-ate- it was obvious enough. He showed some real promise- he just needed someone to teach him.

He waited for the flicker of recognition behind his blue eyes, but there was none- the slight tensing of muscle in his forehead, causing his hitai to slip slightly, but nothing more serious than that. If he recognised him, then Mitsuo didn't show it.

"Dog-san?"

Mitsuo asked, voice laced with an indecipherable tone. Well, it wasn't indecipherable, it was cautious and alert, unwilling to give too much in case you took too much. It was an understandable feeling to have when one was kicked to the ground so often that he might as well make his home there. Still, Kakashi watched the boy as he continued to look around, observing his chakra. It was tightly coiled, in a way that was unusual for anyone with a normal amount of chakra.

Mitsuo had always struggled with control, which is what he'd both observed and learnt about the boy. He had too much chakra which leaked out, overpowering the simplest jutsu into something that would just burn itself out. And while he seemed to create workarounds to each problem, he never seemed to truly solve it.

"That's me! Call me Kakashi."

He answered cheerfully, a facade he wore with ease. His voice seemed to echo throughout the field, never directly alerting where he was. There were Kage Bunshin scattered throughout the trees, meaning that Mitsuo would have to really try in order to find the _real_ Kakashi. Before he could do anything, Kakashi needed to know what exactly the chūnin in front of him knew, and what his skill level was. He had a loose idea, but he needed something concrete in order to work out a plan- he couldn't treat him like any genin- he was a chūnin and had passed his exams with flying colours.

He knew about his interest in fūinjutsu- Kushina would have loved to teach him that, he knew she would- but his knowledge in that was useless: he'd already taught him- well, shown him the scrolls for- all he knew. The one in Konoha, as good as she was, hated Mitsuo's guts, because her husband had been killed by the Kyūbi, meaning that she wasn't available for him to apprentice under.

Jiraiya had been one gust to the wind ever since Minato died, almost impossible to track down. He'd only ever seen Mitsuo once since his birth, always travelling, but had doted on his godson- his _first_ godson. His second one had never even met him, and it was debatable whether Mitsuo even remembered his godfather.

With him unlikely to show up any time soon, and lessons outside of the village an incredibly bad idea with Mitsuo both being a Jinchūriki and a loyal ninja of Konoha, it only really left one option, one Umino Iruka, soon to be head instructor of the Academy. The chūnin was skilled in fūinjutsu, far more than Kakashi himself was, and was teaching a class at the same time Mitsuo's brother went into the Academy.

It was a high chance that Iruka would end up teaching the youngest Uzumaki, so it wasn't that far of a stretch that he would teach the eldest too. One was just more full-on then the other. The Hokage did say to teach him in any area he was lacking, and even though Kakashi was the _Kopī Ninja no Kakashi,_ fūinjutsu was difficult to copy when it was largely based on drawn seals, and not hand signs.

He could repeat such techniques, that much was sure, but to actually teach them? That was another thing entirely: he was a bad teammate, but an even worse teacher.

"Your first assignment is to find me, using any means possible."

He settled back into his position in the trees, watching as Mitsuo blinked, before scanning around. _Just how much like Minato-sensei are you, Mitsuo?_ He held his original copy of _Icha Icha_ in his hands, pretending to flip through the pages as he observed his sensei's son. He appeared to be standing still, in the field, no hand signs or visible flares of chakra.

The training field was deathly silent, and there was nothing to indicate that anything was amiss: Mitsuo's chakra was burning as bright as ever, but Kakashi couldn't feel it running over him.

It was as though he was standing still, frozen, but Kakashi didn't think it was that simple. Adjusting his position silently, book resting in the middle of his lap, he raised his hitai, revealing the swirling red of Obito's Sharingan. Mitsuo's chakra pathways became lit up in an orange hue, not quite fire, not quite smouldering, and it seemed to boil and twist as it made its way around his body.

Then something interesting happened. Chakra wrapped itself around his skin, giving him what was akin to layers snakeskin. It stayed there, in shape, for a few seconds before suddenly expanding, in a large dome-like shape that reminded Kakashi of a barrier.

He covered Obito's Sharingan again, and the barrier-like technique disappeared: invisible to both detection and sensing unless you had the Sharingan- it brought up the question of whether a Byakugan could see it or not.

It wrapped around Kakashi soon enough as he observed passively and grew to about three metres past where he was resting, before it retracted, settling back into place around Mitsuo's skin, and then disappearing.

_I've never seen a technique like that before. Mitsuo is reported to have terrible chakra control, but to have chakra coil around his skin like that, and expand so_ _suddenly in a perfect dome? That's something very precise. It's certainly not a technique that you would learn as a_ _chūnin_ _, which makes me wonder if it's a summon technique. It cannot be a clan technique: the Uchiha is the only clan that somewhat associates with the Uzumaki, and even then, this is not one of Itachi's techniques._

Still, he kept Obito's Sharingan fixed on the young Uzumaki, to see what he would do. There were a number of shadow clones in the clearing, and he was curious whether Mitsuo would be able to immediately tell whether it was real or not. There was no determinable way to tell the difference: shadow clones were the closest in comparison to the real thing, besides durability.

There was a burst of knowledge as one of his clones got dispelled by an accurately thrown shuriken. It pierced where the heart of the clone would be, with enough force to cause some kind of injury. It was jarring to have two views of the same event in his hand, one head on, the other watching the throw from the side, but they settled neatly inside his head.

Mitsuo adjusted his position, staying stock still, frozen in place. Kakashi, upon entering the training field, had not been expecting Mitsuo to find him during the test. Chūnin simply weren't taught the skills needed to find someone of Kakashi's calibre. The fact that he'd found one in one of the hardest hiding spaces so easily- it made Kakashi question _how_ skilled the boy was.

How could he have such bad control yet use techniques that required _exceptional control?_

It was a conundrum indeed. Kakashi stared using Obito's Sharingan again, and carefully observed Mitsuo's chakra. It was calm, before rapidly expanding like it did before, never actually brimming against his skin like it did before. Once it left his skin, it became invisible to the Sharingan's sight, and as he obscured it once again, he made himself rigid, waiting to see what that pulse did.

But to his surprise, he couldn't feel anything. He pulsated his chakra, murmuring _kai_ to see if he had, by chance, been put in a genjutsu. It would have to be a _strong_ one to get past both Kakashi's skills _and_ the Sharingan, but when nothing happened, he realised the technique seriously _had_ been undetectable.

Mitsuo turned to stare where Kakashi was hiding, his eyes slit like- and for an eerie moment, Kakashi thought he was staring at the Kyubi. If it wasn't for the blue of his eyes still remaining visible despite the slits, the lack of red chakra, and the lack of sharp fangs and claws, he would have thought he was.

There were shadows under his eyes, silver almost as they were contrasting against his skin, and there were almost words that could be made out. Over the arches of his eyebrows, the same pigmented colour was prominent, a dark silver kind of colour, like the blade of a kunai.

His hair was curled wildly around, wavering in the presence of his chakra, and it drew parallels to Minato-sensei yet again. It was as if he had entered some unique form, oddly reminiscent of Minato-sensei's Sage Mode: but one could not enter that without a long period of training. And as skilled as Mitsuo was, there was no way that the komainu could teach him that in a week.

It was certainly worth consulting Jiraiya about, if he could _find_ the Sannin.

"You are the one in the trees, third from the left, with something in your hands."

Kakashi straightened up a little, pocketing _Icha Icha_ inside his pocket. It was most curious that he'd been able to correctly identify him, and he was curious as to what technique that he was using to see the _actual_ him. Without saying a word, he leapt silently down from the trees, infusing his feet with chakra to muffle his drop. Now was the test: could he correctly follow his movements?

He pushed up his hitai- committing it to memory as he observed what Mitsuo was doing. He sent out another pulse, and again, Kakashi let it wrap around him, and Mitsuo called his position out correctly. Kakashi shunshined over to where Mitsuo was standing, and the boy reached for his kunai, only barely resisted the urge to grab it. _Good instincts._ His pupils slowly blew back out to their normal width, rounded and innocent-looking, though there was nothing innocent about the boy.

 _I will look into getting him some sensor training._ Kakashi hummed as the two of them stared at one another for a moment, Kakashi eyeing up his prospective student. There was very little he could do to mess up a chūnin- or at least, he could do no worse than the village did itself. _Even if I am wrong and he lacks the ability, it wouldn't do any harm._

"So, your tracking skills are adequate. Now, let's test your _combat_ skills- let's see whether you can impress me or not, Uzumaki-kun."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
